From Boy to Legend: A Champion of Cyrodiil
by IvernessianWriter
Summary: Wrongly accused for murder when trying to defend his home, Kenrick is sentenced to prison. With only days left to his final sentence, execution, he sadly awaits his doom. But when an unexpected character arrives, his life will drastically change.
1. Memories

Away from the comfort of one's own home, prisons prove quite hostile opposites. Instead of the warmth and soothing embrace, they provide harsh weathering conditions tagged along with putrid odors. Foul cages would best describe them – sullied with the grime of past accompaniers who departed from this life to the next. Death clung to each cell like a dire stain, disintegrating the morale of hopeful souls trapped within. An angst air would eventually choke all existing breath stored within the lungs of the living, and no hope of escaping the morbidity would ever present itself. That is unless destiny otherwise strode through on gilded chariot providing a way. Yet, even in the times of darkness, destiny would provide even in the most unlikely of circumstances.

The dark times in Kenrick's life began when he and his father nearly finished the planting of their crops at the end of Last Seed. Perhaps it should have indicated dreadful times were near when a crimson sun rose that fateful morning. Even the darkened misty air seemed enough to drag whatever life existed into the timeless abyss. However, "work must go on" Caen, his father, habitually stated as the day drug out longer than usual. Yet, the long, arduous day offered little merit to Kenrick and Caen as they finally finished with sore ridden hands.

Caen, a man with one leg, plopped down in his chair with the aid of his crutch and looked to the fire pit, deprived of warmth. Sullenly he gazed back to Kenrick who in turn knew what Caen desired. With a simple nod of his head, Kenrick grabbed his machete and hatchet to fell a tree in hopes of providing his father that single uncomplicated wish. Exhausted enough as he was, Kenrick persevered through the struggles, reminding himself of how in the end life would turn out for the better. He adored his father's commitment to live on, especially after losing a wife. Though, never again would he be able to enjoy that luxury.

Two ominous figures garbed in blood red cloaks infringed on their territory, demanding the sudden confiscation of the land for "construction". Overhearing his father yelling for no such deal, Kenrick crept to a nearby bush to investigate the pair of miscreants. Waving their hands around in an eccentric manner, they brutally murdered Caen, incinerating his flesh to nothing more than a mere pile of ashes. Heinous laughter leapt from evil tongues as they loomed over Caen's remains, spitting and kicking the cinders of a once living being - Kenrick's only remaining family.

Torment and anguish welled within Kenrick as he witnessed the horrific act committed, bringing tears to his pale blue eyes, barely believing what they accurately perceived. Fury raged inside, driving him to the act of revenge. With machete and hatchet in hand, Kenrick rushed towards the inattentive mortals, slaying them with no remorse and spilling tainted blood upon the grounds with which they stained through their cruelty.

In spite of the attempt to rectify his father's soul, Kenrick was misconstrued as a brutal and savage murderer as two legionnaires witnessed his relentless onslaught upon the hapless victims. Forgiveness just so happened to be the farthest thing from their minds as the rightful lad attempted to claim his act a just cause. Though, with merciless intentions they clasped irons around both his wrists and ankles, ending the determined efforts of Kenrick.

Now, with little less to do than wait his own ultimate sentence, execution, Kenrick pondered on his past experiences – trying to keep blissful thoughts alive as long as possible. Though, one look at those dark and dreary cell walls immediately brought back misapprehended "crimes" from the grave to plague him until the end.

A week had nearly passed, yet no form of final sentence arrived at the gate, leaving Kenrick in a constant mind of weariness. "Why won't they just end my misery?" cried Kenrick, tears streaming down his cheeks behind unkempt brown hair. "What form of cruelty do they house in this hell hole to keep one destined for death from his untimely end?"

Despite the constant ranting, guards never came to take him away… away from the unknowing and hopeless cage. Definitely, they enjoyed to hear him wail. His voice, though, began to die out, quiet he became, and only a set of eyes peering from the darkness would alert you to a form of life living there. But even though all hope seemed lost, Kenrick's future became apparent with the arrival of an unexpected visitor.


	2. You're The Emperor

Heavy laden boots echoed throughout the halls as the accustomed provider, the slop-drudge, made his way into the heart of the Imperial Prison bringing forth sustenance to the "scum of Cyrodiil". A fat lard of man, the supposed provider, rounded the next corner and down the stairs, his skin greasy in texture and appearance. Mayhap it was the infernal heat of the dungeon which brought about the slimy sweat dripping from his joined upper brow – though in appearance one would think such a brute to be depraved in character.

"'allo, chaps, it's me Jarrod." His voice relieved any notion of ill-intent. "I got your food today." But upon coming to Kenrick's cell, his last stop, Jarrod glanced over at the sullen boy with eyes of empathy. "I b'lieve you lad."

Kenrick gazed up with hopeless eyes fixed on the hulking man. "Thanks, Jarrod" he replied, trying to show at least some form of contentment. "What's on the menu today?"

Jarrod had just enough food left to provide Kenrick with a hardy meal of stale bread and gruel. "It ain't much, but at least it'll keep you alive for another day."

A resentful smirk protruded on Kenrick's lips, knowing full well that another day would only bring the same occurrences… nothing.

"Hey, don't be like that, master Kenrick. They've most likely forgotten completely about your death sentence. I'm sure you'll come out of this 'ol ordeal stronger than ever." Jarrod, at least, knew how Kenrick felt.

"Yea, that's what scares me. I might end up like you, providing food to "scum", as the legionnaires so like to call them. Who, in turn, are exactly like YOU when at first coming here."

Jarrod didn't exactly approve of Kenrick's wording, but fully understood the young lad's choice of words. "Aw, don't be like that. I worked hard to get 'ere." He looked into Kenrick's eyes, and said with a faint smile, "And I 'ear talk of 'em movin' me out. I 'ear they agree that I'm hard worker, and possibly can be given my freedom."

Kenrick glared at Jarrod, unbelief written all across his face. "Really? You?"

"Yea, that's right" Jarrod nodded with a slight glare. "An' I 'ear talk of it bein' soon!"

Amusement erupted from Kenrick as he thought of Jarrod a "free man". "No way are they letting a scumbag like you leave this rat hole." He flung his arm to the side in anger and stomped to the door. Grabbing the bars with all of his strength, the skin on his knuckles turned stark white. "Just like they imprisoned me and will never let me live down my "crimes"," he scowled, "they'll never let you live down yours either."

"Hey," Jarrod snapped, "I'm only tryin' to be friendly, boy! The least you can do is show some respect to your elders."

"Phah!" Kenrick spat at Jarrod, jolting himself from the door. "I don't need you, or anyone else for that matter" he shouted.

Jarrod only shook his head in disapproval before saying, "You'll die a resentful old man if you don't change your way of looking at things, ma boy." With that he left Kenrick alone to wallow in his own misery.

Kenrick watched with watering eyes as Jarrod left, the only friend he had on the face of the planet. Realizing what happened, Kenrick felt guilty for the words spoken to Jarrod, and decided tomorrow he would make amends. _'I seem to drive everyone away… everyone I've ever cared for. My mother left because I was "too much to bear". And my father died because I was too afraid to run out and slay those bastards who killed him, beforehand. And now Jarrod, the nicest person to me since I've been in here. Tomorrow that ends. I'll apologize to Jarrod and everything will be all right.'_ However, the next day brought no such promise.

"Come 'ere little piggies," a new voice, this one raspy and bitter, "I got your slop today. Good 'ol Jarrod is gone, and you're stuck with me, Goeger." He cackled, bringing the slop bucket to each door. A thin and wiry Argonian walked down the steps, an obvious deformity in his back for he constantly hunched over. Crooked fingers marked his scaly hands.

"Wait, what do you mean… Jarrod's gone?" Kenrick's heart skipped a beat, hoping he mistook the overgrown lizard's words, but quickly sank with the confirmation.

Goeger hissed, "Son-of-a…" he refrained from saying anything further, and hissed again. "Jarrod has been labeled a "free man". Damned imperial laws always favoring their kind." The Argonian's tail violently flicked back and forth as he proceeded to fill up Kenrick's bucket and a "new" bucket opposite his own.

Another resident must have been added to the Imperial Prison over night. Kenrick glanced passed the Argonian, noticing two reddened eyes peering back at him.

"He's wrong, you know" a thin yet brusque voice said to him.

"What do you mean?"

A dark-skinned Dunmer inched closer to the gate, revealing his malicious smile. "You'll see, as an Imperial in the Imperial Prison" he sniggered just saying it. "They DON'T play favorites. Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of human trash!"

Kenrick glared at him, asking "What's your name, Dunmer?"

"Valen is the name, and trouble making is the game" he cackled.

"What brings you here?"

"Oh me? Ehh… I've been here a long, long time. Don't exactly remember the crime." Valen was obviously lying, guffawing the whole while.

Kenrick seemed puzzled, he was sure there weren't any other prisoners in the cells. However, Valen told him of a recent "movement" that had fortunately brought him up here. Apparently there were mysterious deaths in the lower bowels of the prison.

"So, are you scheduled to continually move upwards and eventually out" asked Kenrick.

Valen giggled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I am, eventually. But you," he leered at Kenrick, "won't. How sad," he said sarcastically, "don't worry though, I bet the guards will give you "special" treatment before the end" cackling erupted again. "Oh that's right! You're going to die in here, Imperial! You're going to die! Imperial scum like you give the empire a bad name, you see. You're an embarrassment" he said loathingly, "Best if you just… disappeared." Both looked over to the stairway leading from the upper level of cells down to theirs as a door creaked open. And with a final cackle before being interrupted by the guards Valen growled, "Look, here they come! They're coming for you! It's your turn to die!"

Heavy metal clinks sounded, bringing many footsteps down the flight of stairs and four voices echoed from its halls. A stern female's voice commanded, "Close that door behind us, Baurus. I don't want anyone thinking anything suspicious of our being here."

"Yes ma'am" Baurus replied in earnest.

Another voice, this one deep and royal, yet burdened with sorrow, asked "My son's... they're dead, aren't they?"

"We don't know that sir," replied the female, "the messenger only said they were attacked."

"No, they're dead… I know it." His voice trailed off as if in deep thought.

"Well, right now my job is to get your highness out of here and that is what I intend to do." She finished as they walked right up to the boy's gate. Three guards garbed in grey and brown Akaviri armor, complete with a round studded shield and ever so slightly curvaceous katanas. One elder man stood amongst them, obviously the noble voice, garbed in a royal purple robe, and an exquisite red jewel hung around his neck.

The captain of the guards, the female, said in surprise at seeing the boy, "What's this prisoner doing in here? These cells are supposed to be off limits."

"I don't know, ma'am… I uh," fumbled the other guard. "Mu… must be the usual mix up with the watch. I uh..."

"Well, move aside." She said forcefully standing in front of the cell door. She looked harshly at the boy. "Stand back prisoner," she ordered, "we won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way." The other guard repeated her command and ordered the boy to stand beneath the window. Kenrick did, of course, not wanting to confront three well-armed guards, but still was utterly confused as to what exactly was going on. The guard walked up to him, preventing his view of the nobility.

"Alright, let's move forward your majesty. Glenroy, keep an eye on that boy!" The female guard walked past Glenroy and the boy, placing her hand on one of the many bricks marking the side of the cell. Interestingly enough the brick easily sunk into the wall, revealing a secret passageway as the wall slid off to the left. Intrigued, the boy tried to peek around to see what lay beyond the entrance, but was forcefully pressed against the wall by the guard standing in front of him.

"Enough, Glenroy" said the elder man. He walked forward towards the female captain and glanced at the boy, halting as he examined the angered young lad's face. "Wait… I know you."

"What do you mean, sir?" inquired Kenrick, looking around, frightened, as the man walked closer to him. _'Maybe he's joined with the men who killed my father, and has now returned to kill me too!'_ "I've never even met you before" he said frantically.

"Calm down. We're not here to harm you, I promise. What's your name" he humbly asked.

"Kenrick. What does my name have to do with anything" he asked angrily, pushing Glenroy off him.

"Everything… you're the one from my dreams" he said sadly. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day. May the gods give me strength!"

"What are you talking about? What's going on? Why are you here? Who are you?" Kenrick looked deep into the man's eyes… eyes full of despair and lost hope.

"I am your emperor, Uriel Septim the seventh, of Cyrodiil, and furthermore the ruler of all Tamriel."


	3. The Escape Route

Shock streaked across Kenrick face – the emperor of Tamriel stood there in the Imperial Prison. As an immediate reaction to show reverence towards the ruler, Kenrick bowed fervently.

"This is not the time for such acts" Uriel commanded.

"But… you're the emperor" Kenrick stammered.

Reiterating the sentence again, Uriel pulled Kenrick upright.

"Well, then maybe you could answer me a few questions" asked Kenrick.

Uriel motioned with a hand for him to proceed.

"Why have I been wrongly accused of murder when my own father's ashes lie on the threshold of my house?"

With eyes full of compassion, Uriel gazed upon Kenrick before answering. "What you have done will be forgotten. And the things you shall do will be remembered for all eternity."

Confused of the meaning, Kenrick glared at Uriel and bluntly asked, "What is your purpose here?"

A long, wearisome sigh showed that had Uriel suffered much grief. Tear-filled eyes of despair rested on Kenrick, hoping he would understand. "The truth of my being here, dear child, is no easy notion for a father to explain."

Kenrick's glare lowered, almost sensing the grief stored within the man.

Following another exhausted sigh, Uriel continued. "Assassins have attacked my sons," he said, stating matter-of-factly, "and I am next. My guards, as you might have guessed by now, are leading me through a secret escape route. That route, by chance, leads through you cell."

Kenrick peered past the emperor and further back into the tunnel, eager for an invitation to present itself.

After several moments of silence, Renault, the female captain, reiterated their time critical mission. Uriel glumly acknowledged her, looking to Kenrick and offered him to travel with them.

Though, immediately doubts entered Kenrick's mind. "Why would I come along? I serve no purpose to your mission."

"Yes you do, whether you realize it or not. Do you honestly think our meeting here was by sheer chance? The gods have uniquely placed you and I here to meet. Your mission is not much different than mine, though you do not yet understand why." Kenrick only shrugged. "You will come with me for a while, and perhaps you may understand a little better before the end." Uriel then motioned for Renault to lead on.

"Looks like this is your lucky day, prisoner" said Baurus, and finished with, "Just stay out of our way."

Glenroy looked him over and said in a harsh, judging tone, "I'm watching you prisoner. Don't try anything foolish or it WILL cost your life." Kenrick adamantly shook his head.

Looking around Kenrick saw Valen in the opposing cell, and glared at him. "Hey you, Imperial," growled the Dunmer "come back here!"

Kenrick returned, eager to see the Dunmer once last time. "I guess," he chuckled, "it is best I just... disappeared." Kenrick laughed some more, finding his way along the tunnel.

"Damn you swit! You… you'll pay for this!" Though, Valen's voice trailed as Kenrick proceeded further into the tunnel.

Trying his best not to bash any limbs, and hoping to safeguard himself, Kenrick thrust forward his hands, feeling along the passage. But before long Kenrick caught up to them.

A long dark tunnel loomed before them with the only light being from Renault's torch. Suddenly they stopped at a clearing; Renault glanced around and motioned for them to wait. Slowly she walked over to a set of steps leading down to a thick wooden door, and cautiously gazed around the room, only to be ambushed by four assassins garbed in red and black metallic armor; crimson Kris Blades held firmly in their hands. Baurus and Glenroy rushed to her, managing to slay three, but were too late for the fourth assassin had already slid his knife across an otherwise now bloody throat.

"Captain Renault!" they yelled in unison.

"You'll pay for this, damned assassin!" Baurus pointed his sword toward the last as Glenroy rushed him. This one proved slightly tougher, but easily fell to the combined might of two trained warriors.

Baurus went to Renault's side and said in a weeping tone, "She's dead, sir."

"I'm sorry, Baurus" replied Glenroy. "I know how you cared for her. But remember our mission. We must get the emperor to safety." Uriel and Kenrick walked to them and Glenroy assumed leadership. "We must go your highness. But you," he stabbed a finger at Kenrick's chest, "must find another way."

"What? You're just going to leave me here? What if there are more of those assassins around?" Kenrick's heart leapt in panick, but Uriel gently laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"Kenrick," he said calmly, "you will make it. You must make it. We must part, but I shall see you before the end." Kenrick calmed down a bit, but still did not wish to part. Slowly he nodded and watched as they went through the next door. Hearing a clink as the door locked behind them made his heart sink even further.

Anxiously, Kenrick paced back and forth, not knowing what to do. Suddenly he looked down to the assassins and noticed their armor had disappeared right before his eyes. Crimson red robes covered the evil beings. Glaring at the beings reminded him of the bastards whom were slain by a revengeful hand – his own. "But, what does this mean?"

Abruptly after the wicked remembrance, a loud crack sounded from the wall to the right of the thick wooden door. Kenrick turned around to see the wall crumbling and an enormous and ferocious rat pounced upon him. With teeth gnashing, Kenrick could do little to prevent the creature from tearing the flesh from his face. Looking over to see Renault's limp body still clutching her sword, Kenrick desperately reached for it. Doing as best he could to hold the beast off with one hand, he snagged the blade. Unfortunately, the closest thing to him was the actual blade of the sword, with which his bloody hand gripped tight and thrust through the beast's head.

Squealing and jolting, it leaped off Kenrick, trying to alleviate the immense pain. Seeing no sympathy for the pathetic life form, Kenrick stepped on the rat and ripped the sword from its head, stabbed it once more, rendering it motionless.

Heavy breathing taxed Kenrick's every movement, draining him of much energy. But a second rat leapt from the hole. Quickly Kenrick flung the sword through the air, skewering the other beast. Again, he ripped the sword from his enemy.

Achingly Kenrick stepped through the opening from whence the rats came. To his forward was a well, and to his right an opened chest with a rucksack carelessly tossed in it. An iron axe lay next to it and twenty golden septims inside a small pouch located in the right pocket of the bag. _'I might need these later on.'_

On the left side of the room Kenrick noticed a skeleton garbed in leather armor, a rusted bow and quiver of thirty arrows included. A small iron dagger also fit neatly in an inner pouch of the right leather boot. To the left of the corpse a bag with ten more septims and a lock pick lay, and to its right a locked box. Grabbing the lock pick, and, remembering how his father taught him to pick a lock, he tried his hand at it. Kenrick surprised himself at even remembering how to do it, seeing as it was over five years ago. In the box sat a pouch of thirteen more septims, giving him a total of forty three. _'I wonder who just leaves money lying around like this'_ he asked himself.

Staring at the skeleton, Kenrick decided to disrobe the decrepit figure reassuring himself, _'If I encounter any trouble, hopefully this leather will protect me at least somewhat better than a ragged old shirt'._

Garbed now in a leather cuirass, leather boots with a hidden dagger, a mighty akaviri katana strapped to his side, a rucksack with a dangling iron axe, and a pouch with forty three septims, Kenrick was almost ready to go.

"Well," he said aloud "I might want a ranged weapon to fend off enemies from afar. Perhaps this rusted old bow could help… but I'll check it out first. Must be sturdy enough to work or I could be in some serious trouble." He noticed a bucket hanging over the well in the center of the room.

Not really needing the practice, for his father taught him to hunt deer with a bow, Kenrick steadily aimed down the shaft of the arrow and _WHIIIIZ_ went the arrow straight and true, making a _THUNK_ sound upon contact. "Perfect!" He ran to receive the arrow and observed a door sat off to the left with an either completely inebriated goblin (a bottle of wine was in its right hand), or a dead goblin. Yep it was dead, not moving for anything, and it reeked of death – although goblin's DO smell awfully gut-wrenching.

Carefully checking the corpse for anything of interest revealed a key for the door ahead, about fifteen more septims, and an unlit torch. Perhaps if a fire source appeared to light it, the torch would serve some purpose for Kenrick. Indeed he did find a small fire in the next room, but too he found more than fire, for two rats slept near the site.

Stepping forward to try and ascertain the situation and how best to take care of the nuisances, Kenrick discovered two books labeled "Restoration" and "Destruction". _'How odd'_ he thought to himself, opening them up, barely able to read them in the darkness. Upon noticing small incantations that would allow him to learn two spells, Kenrick tought _'Magic!'_ If only he could make it out; more light proved needed.

Unmasking the bow, Kenrick quickly notched an arrow in place and slew the first rat. But obviously the second rat was still breathing and rushed at Kenrick with a fire in its eye – hungry for flesh. Though, the second rat easily fell to a swift arrow between those flesh-lusting eyes.

Warily, Kenrick eased out into the light where the books granted him the first and second spells of basic magic. These two spells would be the basis for all of his powers to come. He figured now would be the perfect time to test his restoration magic. The spell, unfortunately, was only a minor restoration spell, repairing only the most minor wounds, the cuts on his hand from the Akaviri blade. _'But hey, alive is better than dead. Though, I'll need to learn more in the Arcane Arts to acquire more powerful spells.'_ And he would! However, for now he just had to get out of this confounded place.

A small box caught his attention as he continued further along. "Hmm, what's this?" He found the box locked. "Drat… oh wait! My lock pick." He gently stuck the pick inside the keyhole, found the tumblers and set them in place. He glanced around to make sure there were no more creatures while he looked in the box. A suit of iron armor, cuirass and greaves only though, sat neatly inside the enclosed container, and now belonged to Kenrick. "This will definitely protect me far more than this cheap leather" he smirked and donned the suit and made double sure all the straps were securely locked in place before continuing any further. As he turned around to light his torch the fire went out, already it had been low, but seemed fine for the time being. However, it's essence now escaped his grasp leaving him in the dark. There was, however, enough light for him to "safely" maneuver throughout the current parts of the cave.

"Only if it weren't so dark in here" Kenrick whispered, wishing for a light. In being fairly dark, several times he scraped his armored shins against fallen stones from the ceiling, making several loud clanging noises. It was a miracle he hadn't drawn every creature in the entirety of the tunnels to his location. "I'll give the light armor one thing though… it sure was a lot quieter. But I would rather be protected against stronger beasts. Already I found a goblin… dead… but nonetheless it was a goblin. There are likely to be more than just that one." But what he next found was neither rat nor goblin. Oh no, it was much, MUCH worse.

The tunnels seemed to go on for quite a while. Already he had to back track several times to find his way due to dead ends over the past hour or so. But he eventually came upon a room with a lit up hallway leading down a slope. At the end the hallway turned sharply to the left and leveled out. All along the tunnel were stones from a caved in ceiling overhead. As quietly as possible he maneuvered around the stones and turned the corner. But what stood around the corner scared any form of braveness or courage right out of Kenrick. Only in stories had he heard of such ghastly beings, but never had he seen them, and certainly the idea of them was quite preposterous. How could something like this be _LIVING!?_ Yes, what he saw around the corner was no less than the walking dead itself – a gruesome, rotten, WALKING zombie. The stench itself was unbearable, strong enough to make one upchuck every meal over the past year. And the sight of the horrific hanging limbs of grayed-out torn flesh hanging from the extruding bones. Though this was not the only thing that scared him; this zombie would mean that all of the other creatures of undead potential that he had ever heard of too would most likely be in existence. Walking skeletons, ghosts, ghouls, deadly lich sorcerers, and the most fearsome of all… dremora, demon-lords straight from the plains of Oblivion itself – all of these were now more likely than not to be true.

Fortunately for Kenrick the zombie had not noticed him. Being as scared as he was he had not moved for a full five minutes. _'Move Kenrick. Move your arse or you might just end up just like… it!'_ Finally he mustered up the courage to try and move, but his foot somehow got stuck in the rubble. He glanced up at the walking corpse who had now taken an interest in him, having noticed the wiggling of the lad trying to free himself.

"Oh no!" he gasped, trying harder and harder to free his foot. Almost upon him, Kenrick unsheathed his sword just in time with such a powerful upward strike he managed to cleave the head clean off of the fiend. Even an undead cannot function without a brain apparently. Gasping for breath Kenrick grabbed his chest trying to control his breathing. "I think I might have soiled myself." He glanced down to notice a wet substance running beneath his feet, noticing it only to be the blood of the zombie. "Phew…" he gasped. "Eww!"

He continued along several more passages, finding more gold, giving him now a total of eighty five gold pieces, a shield and helmet, and several more dead rats left in his wake. But tougher enemies would surely arrive.

"When do these tunnels ever end?" Kenrick started to become worried that he may have taken a wrong turn or missed a needed exit, when he saw a faint glow ahead. "A fire?"

He proceeded forward to investigate the glow. Indeed it was a fire. There was only one problem… or two I should say; Goblins. One patrolled the area around the fire on the left, and the other stood next to the wall fiddling with something. Kenrick noted this oddity about the second goblin. He was setting a trap. Looking up revealed a massive log tied to the ceiling. The goblin finished tying the rope – a single rope stretched across the floor between two wooden posts on both sides of the entrance to the next area of the tunnels. The rope then ran up to the ceiling after rounding the second post and through a metal hook in the ceiling and looped around the log several times. _'Perhaps I can do this. Two enemies in a short quick session.'_ He silently notched an arrow, breathing slowly to decrease his possibility of missing the rope tied to the first post. Steadily he aimed down the arrow shaft, pulled the bowstring back to his cheek, and let fly the arrow. _WHOOOSH!_ The massive log came swinging down, bashing the skull of the first goblin and flinging him over to the second goblin. Angrily the second goblin screeched, not sure of where the archer sat. Hurriedly it looked all around barely even seeing Kenrick before the final blow came, a slash to the throat ending its pathetic life. Kenrick spat upon the grisly creature, releasing the rest of his hate towards them.

After his short skirmish with the goblins he made his way into a long hallway, and then out into a large open cavern. A large pit sat in the center, natural steps led down to a bonfire where a goblin sat chewing on some rat meat. Three hapless rats huddled together in a small alcove of the pit, penned in by what appeared to be chicken fencing. _'Hmm,'_ thought Kenrick, _'It appears goblins do have brains.'_

Off to the right, on a small terrace above the rat pit another goblin sat chewing on a rat's leg and watched as he burned the other leg over a small fire. On the left a third goblin sat next to a well-built fire, meticulously cooking his rat skewered on a spit. Finally, on the far side of the pit, under an opening in the cave ceiling, stood a goblin shaman, white beaming light shining down on her head. She appeared to be preaching or something of the like, for she often looked to the other three goblins and muttered aloud in the tongue of their kind, waving her hands about as if in the middle of a long speech. A goblin totem, firmly grasped in her clutches, was made of wood and a carved out goblin's head mounted atop the staff. For Kenrick, this was good, they all seemed preoccupied. That was until he noticed where the exit was. Unfortunately the only exit sat behind her, the shaman, on the right side of the far wall, where it was well lit by the natural light of the opening.

"Dammit!" Kenrick whispered. "I'll have to kill them all if I wish to escape." He decided to take out the one in the middle first; it seemed to be out of eyeshot of the other three. Again he steadily notched an arrow, and took aim. _Thwack _sounded the arrow as it made a sickening crack in the goblin's skull. It made a louder noise than he had anticipated – loud enough to actually draw the attention of the first two goblins on the right and left sides of the cave. The shaman noticed the commotion and looked to the invader. She screeched and ordered for the remaining two to take care of their visitor. Hurriedly Kenrick set another arrow, but only managed to puncture the arm of one goblin. He had no time left to defend against them. But miraculously the two collided before reaching their foe, falling in an intertwined screeching bundle. Taking advantage of the situation Kenrick quickly unsheathed his sword and jabbed at the two stumbling on the ground, a bloody puddle formed around their bodies, which left only the shaman to deal with. She screeched and held the totem in front of her, as if to use it as a magical staff. Alas, it was a magical staff, leaving Kenrick barely enough time to evade the bolt of lightning hurling towards him.

Luckily he managed to find a defensible spot, right behind two small pillars off to the right above the rat cage. He sheathed his sword and prepared his bow, praying to whatever gods there might be for swiftness and accurate shots at his foe. Blast of lightning after blast of lightning hurled towards Kenrick as the relentless attacks of the shaman continued, each bolt striking the pillars behind him with a loud thundering blare.

He breathed in, closed his eyes, and summoned up what energy he had left. Suddenly he remembered, _'I have magic!'_ Doing his best he conjured up what magicka was left in him, the restoration spell must have drained a fair amount out of him. He readied his hands for the spell, dove out to the right of the pillar, dodging the last bolt of lightning by a mere inch or so, and let loose a magical spell of his very own. Heated bursts of energy shot from his palms and made contact with the shaman's face, smoldering her eyes, and ending her life in an instant.

Panting heavily, Kenrick stood to his feet and went to examine the burnt remains of the goblin. He looked up to where she was standing and saw a chest, and a chest off to the left behind more chicken wire. In the chest where the Shaman stood he found eight rare gems – two rubies, two sapphires, two emeralds, and two topaz jewels. Excited he shoved them in his bag and proceeded to examine the second chest. Inside rested an iron sword and repair hammer. "Perhaps this may come of use if I can find an anvil and furnace somewhere" he said sarcastically, noting the anvil-less and furnace-less surroundings while stashing the hammer in a separate pocket of his sack. Strapping the sword to his back with the bow and quiver, he realized he only had ten arrows left. He would have to be more resourceful with them in the future.

Continuing along the path out of the opened cave he found himself heading up a steep slope and into more of the underground tunnels. Ahead he heard the faintest sound of voices. "What if there are more of them sir?" asked one voice. "We can't hold them off forever."

"Remain strong Baurus" said the other. The voices were of course Uriel and his two remaining guards. Kenrick hurried ahead to an overhanging shelf, where he could see the three men down below, and about to be ambushed. Though, he had no time to call out for their safety

"Lookout Baurus!" Glenroy suddenly cired, seeing an assassin leap down from straight above him. Baurus dodge in time, gutting the killer straight through his stomach as he descended.

Kenrick watched from safety as the two fought off several assassins and glanced up just in time to see one about to pounce upon the emperor. Quickly he notched an arrow and shot the predator in midair. He then hopped down to greet the men, a face full of glee. Baurus thanked him, but Glenroy glared at him, sword drawn.

"Lookout! It's the prisoner again. He might be working with the assassins! Kill him." Glenroy never liked Kenrick from the moment he laid eyes upon him, expecting him to be an assassin. Afterall, he had been there since they entered the prison block.

"Put it down, Glenroy" ordered Uriel. "He is not one of them. He could have taken my life there, but instead he dared rescue me. This is worthy of noting, is it not?"

Glenroy glared and puffed. "Whatever you say your majesty" he said reluctantly and sheathed his weapon.

"Come here, Kenrick" pleaded the emperor. Kenrick gladly walked over to him, thankfully seeing the group again. "My men do not understand" Uriel began. "How can I explain to them that you are destined for great things? They have not seen what I have seen."

Kenrick only shrugged, confused as to why the emperor repeatedly claimed him to be some sort of "destined" one.

Uriel sighed and said, "Do you know the teachings of the gods, Kenrick? Do you know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand."

"I've never really thought about it, sir. So no, not really." He smiled sheepishly, not knowing what to say.

"That is alright, child. For I have served the gods all the days of my life. I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked, Kenrick. Marked with numberless sparks, each a fire and everyone a sign. I know these stars well, dear child, and I wonder… which sign has marked your birth? Do you know?"

"My birth sign?" Uriel nodded while Kenrick thought it over. "I remember my mother telling me once… she said, _'My dear child, you are a special child… but a burden clouds your future and I know not what to do with this sign. The Atronach may prove a useful companion, or a deadly curse. But you shall make your future a great one.'_ So I guess my sign is that of The Atronach."

"I see. The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it comes." Uriel looked deep into Kenrick's eyes, seeing many choices set before the young lad.

After much thought Kenrick asked, "What does my sign say? What will become of me?"

"Your stars are not mine, Kenrick. As your mother told you, The Atronach may prove a useful companion, or a burden to your every action. You shall decide what becomes of you."

"What about you, aren't you afraid to die?"

"No trophies of my triumph precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this, I am blessed to see the hour of my death – to face my apportioned fate… then fall." Uriel smiled and nodded.

Kenrick thought over his words and asked, "Can you see my fate?"

Uriel shook his head and said, "My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and the promise of your aid, my heart shall be satisfied."

Kenrick sighed and decide to ask, "Well, then where are we going?"

Uriel's face grew grim as he replied, "I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me for a while, then we must part again." Glenroy then pleaded for them to continue and Uriel acknowledged him.

Baurus smiled and tapped Kenrick. "Yeah?" Kenrick asked.

"If you're going to come with us, you might as well make yourself useful. Here," Baurus handed him a torch and motioned for him to move, "carry that torch and stick close alright?" Kenrick nodded and followed.

Rounding the next corner brought them to a high terrace of stonework, overlooking a small boxed in room with a stairway leading down on the right. Another terrace sat on the other side of the room, the perfect place to set an ambush. Unfortunately no one noticed this small fact about their surroundings.

Kenrick hurried up alongside Baurus to inquire who exactly he and Glenroy were, what were their occupations exactly.

"We're Blades" he calmly said. "The emperor's personal body guards; independent of the Imperial Legion, thank Akatosh."

"Blades? WOW!" Kenrick had heard of the expertly trained swordsmen known as The Blades, but never actually had the honor to meet one of such high stature.

Continuing down the stairs led them to the small area, door in front and stairs behind. Cautiously they proceeded to the door. Upon opening it they saw a figure garbed in a crimson cloak, glaring at them beneath a blood red hood. "This is as far as you go, N'Wah!" his raspy voice echoed in the hallway, signaling for four assassins to jump down from the darkened terrace, cornering them on all four sides.

"Baurus… Kenrick, ready yourselves." All drew their weapons; even the emperor had a short silver blade and prepared for the attack.

Glenroy lunged at the one to the right, stabbing him through his chest, Baurus snagged the one on the left in the chin, severing flesh from bone. Kenrick luckily managed to skewer the one to his left in the neck, and the emperor lunged at the one in front of him, slitting his throat. All that was left was the one in the doorway. He dropped his cloak revealing a far more ornate red and black armor than the others; red vinery scaled the leggings and arm plates, and a short curved blade in each hand.

"He looks like he'll be fun" chuckled Baurus. Glenroy motioned for Uriel and Kenrick to step back and ordered Kenrick to look after the emperor. Kenrick nodded.

"You have no idea with whom you are dealing, do you swits?" The assassin prepared himself and made his stance, turning slightly to the left and preparing his blades.

Baurus and Glenroy, too, made their stances, readying for him to make the first move. A low growl escaped the assassin's lips, letting them know he grew impatient. Suddenly he lunged forward with one blade, clashing metal with Glenroy, and blocked a blow from Baurus. Several more flurries ended up giving Glenroy a cut shoulder, and Baurus a nick to his cheek. The assassin laughed as the combined might of the blades seemed easy for him.

Baurus grew angry with this and growled, "He's playing with us sir. We need to kill him quick." Little did they all know, Kenrick snuck around behind the assassin. And unexpectedly they heard a crack and saw shining metal protruding through the assassin's chest, blood dripping off the end of the blade.

"How!?" the assassin gasped, blood gurgling to his mouth. Kenrick jerked his blade out and kicked the brute to the floor. Glenroy and Baurus looked to the young boy, surprised. Kenrick just gave a cheesy smile, proud of his work.

Baurus smiled and patted him on the back and said "Good work." Glenroy, on the other hand, glared at Kenrick and said angrily, "Stay OUT of the way! We had everything under control!"

Kenrick walked by Glenroy, tapping the wounded shoulder. "I see that" he agreed.

Again they continued on, heading through the hall and into a room leading down a set of stairs, leading to either one of two gated doors. Glenroy stopped them at the top of the stairs, gazing around the room, unsure of what lie ahead. "Hold on" he said "I don't like this. Let me take a look." Cautiously he descended the stairs and stood in the opening, inspecting every area of the room. Once he was sure it was safe he motioned for them to follow, saying "Come on, it's clear."

Arriving at the appropriate gate they all stood there and Glenroy said, "Alright, through this room is where we need to get. Once we're through it should be safer." He reached to open the door but it was bolted and barred. "Dammit! The gates locked. A trap!"

"What about that side passage back there sir?" asked Baurus.

Glenroy shook his head angrily but said, "I don't know. It's worth a try. Let's go." It, however, turned out to be a dead end. Behind them the soft patter of feet could be heard outside the entrance. "They're behind us Baurus. Let's go!"

Baurus nodded and put his hand on Kenrick's shoulder and said, "Guard the emperor with your life." Kenrick nodded vigorously. Baurus then turned and yelled, "For the Emperor!" while Glenroy shouted, "Oblivion take you!" Metal rings, and violent sparks filled the room as the warriors clashed blades.

The emperor sighed and turned Kenrick around to face him. "My time is at an end, Kenrick. I can go no further. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants." He took off his jeweled necklace and placed it firmly in Kenrick's palm. "He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" he said abruptly. "Take this amulet and find Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my lost son, the only heir left to the throne. Find him and close shut the Jaws of Oblivion!" And from that moment on Uriel Septim VII, the living emperor of Tamriel, was no more. An assassin snuck through a secret entrance behind the emperor and stabbed him through the back. Baurus witnessed it all and ran as fast as he could, but to no avail. Even though he ended the life of the killer in one fell swoop.

Torn in heart and spirit, Baurus wept for the loss of his king. Silently he knelt down to offer a prayer for the soul of his highness. Seeing Baurus in such bad shape, in such a hurt state of mind, Kenrick decided to give him a moment alone as he wept for the loss. He stepped out into the main hallway and witness six assassin's lay dead at the feet of Glenroy. His sword smeared with the blood of his foes. Kenrick picked it up and brought both swords, Renault's and Glenroy's, and offered them to Baurus.

"They deserve a place of honor" Kenrick said sadly.

Baurus looked to the swords and stood up, wiping the tears from his eyes. He forcefully smiled and looked to Kenrick and said, "Thankyou for recovering the blades of my comrades. I shall make sure they receive a most honorable place in the Hall of Warriors." He nodded and swallowed back his tears as best he could and said, "Glenroy wanted me to tell you one thing before he died."

"Wha…" tears swelled in Kenrick's eyes. He cleared his throat and asked in a bolder tone, "What was it?"

"He just wanted to say "Thankyou" and that "You have potential kid. Fare well." Those were his words to me." Baurus put a hand on his shoulder and reaffirmed it. "My job is over though, I have failed. The emperor and all of his sons are dead. Wait! Where's the amulet? I couldn't find the amulet on the Emperor's body!"

Kenrick held out his hand and said, "The emperor gave it to me."

"Why? Why did he give it to you?" Baurus almost glared and snatched it away but decided to wait for him to explain.

"He said I need to take it to Jauffre."

"Why? Why Jauffre?"

"He said there is another heir, and only Jauffre knows where to find him."

"Hmm, I see." Baurus rubbed his chin. "The emperor saw something in you, Kenrick. Something he hadn't ever seen anyone before. What exactly it was, I'll never know now." Kenrick smiled. "Well, Jauffre is the one to take that to. He knows far more than anyone I have ever met, besides Uriel of course. He is the Grand Master of my order, The Blades, although you may not think so when you meet him. His location, however, is a mystery to me. The last time I met him was back at Cloud Ruler Temple, the ancient Akiviri fort near Bruma. You'll have to investigate his current whereabouts. He left the temple to become a monk, yet I do not know as to where he went. But once you do find him, he'll have everything you need to find this last heir." Baurus patted him again and gave him a key.

"What's this for?" Kenrick looked at the uniqueness of the key, and wondered what on earth it could be for.

"That key leads to the sewers, where we were headed. It should take you outside of the city. It was specially crafted for this one entrance, the secret entrance into the sewers." Baurus smiled as he said sewers, for Kenrick made a disgusting face at the fact of having to go down there.

Kenrick gulped and asked, "The sewers?"

Baurus nodded. "Yep! Once in there you may encounter some minor goblins and rats, but nothing too big to worry about. Now get going, you have a long way ahead of you."

Kenrick nodded and turned around about to head through, but Baurus stopped him and added, "Be safe alright?"

"I will. I promise." They both smiled and Kenrick went through, leaving Baurus in silence. He walked along the path and found a chest with some gold in it, about fifty septims. "Wow, now I have over a hundred" he said pocketing the gold in his pouch.

Only after a little bit of time he discovered the secret entrance Baurus talked about. It looked like a large Akaviri shield, and in the center a small keyhole perfectly crafted for the key in his possession. Kenrick stuck the key in and turned it, but what surprised him was the key was magical, a onetime use only. For as he turned the key it sank into the dome and magically disappeared. He heard a faint whirring sound and stood back. The dome slowly lifted open, allowing him to go through and never return through this way again, for it slammed shut as soon as his head was down far enough. He looked up and almost wished this had never happened; he knew not what he lay before him. "But I'm here now" reassuring himself, trying to build his confidence in the fact that it was HE who needed to do this task. "I've started something that I cannot just stop. I must complete my task." With that he swallowed his fear of uncertainty and continued on down the stairs and into the sewers, leaving behind what little hope he could cling to. It was now his turn to venture and overcome adversity.

--

Darkness pervaded the sewers – even in the lightest of places darkness clung to every recess. It was a fact – an inescapable and dreaded fact. Standing at the base of the steps, looking away from everything he used to know. Kenrick wondered what would become of him now.

'_I thought I used to know. Would my life ever benefit anyone other than my own?'_ Depressed, Kenrick slumped against the stairs, wandering in thought. _'The Emperor said I… me… a simple farm boy who really knows nothing more than how to grow plants… am the only one who can "Close shut the Jaws of Oblivion" – whatever that means. And I am supposedly someone destined to do great things. Is he right? How am I to know now unless I try and figure these things out? I will visit Jauffre. Hopefully he can shed some light on everything going on.'_ And on that single decision he pressed on into the darkness.

After turning the corner from the stairs he noticed a light at the end of the hall, as well as a dark and ominous figure illuminated from behind. Slowly it paced back and forth, as if waiting for something or someone, and something assuredly dangerous grasped in its clutches. Trying his best to keep silent, Kenrick stayed away from rubble, kept his iron cuirass and greaves away from the walls, and slowly but surely crept along the passage to get a better view of the possible threat. Luckily, a large stone sat next to the entrance, and carefully sneaking up to it, he peered over at the being haunting his vision but found no such thing – not a single other life form in sight. The light he saw appeared to only now be the simple light of a rather weak fire. But it seemed so bright at the beginning of the tunnel. Puzzled, Kenrick gazed to his left and right, surveying his surroundings, knowing for sure he saw something. He glanced over a passage to his right, darkened by the black figure. It just stared at him… yet with eyes it did not have, only a dark, dark face. It inched closer and closer to the tunnel, almost as if saying _'Follow me'_.

'_What in the world?'_ thought Kenrick. He inched along toward the passage to find only a black cloak caught on a nail and gently stirring in the wind. Wait… wind? In a tunnel? A tunnel where no apparent nearby openings led to the outside world? Perhaps this was supernatural. For the wind abruptly stopped at the cloak. Yet there was still that lightened opening at the end of this tunnel too, and in which the same black figure stood. Knowing full well this figure had to be something other than human… or perhaps it once was human and now possesses supernatural abilities. All Kenrick knew is that whatever it was could be friend, or it just might be something or someone waiting to rend the flesh from his bones. However, he was curious as to what exactly this thing could be. For he felt a comfort in it... an inexplainable comfort radiating from it... and yet a familiar comfort it was.

Stealthily, Kenrick advanced along this passage, just as before, yet not nearly as quiet. Whatever it was, it wanted him to follow, and he would not keep it waiting too long. _'Better to chase the beast than run and let the beast chase thee'_ he thought to himself. Though when he approached the thing and came to just about the same place as before, the being disappeared, but this time Kenrick found himself in a tunnel with two goblins patrolling the halls.

One goblin carried a rusted mace and shield. The other carried a small blade, with which it scrupulously picked its teeth clean of the latest meal. Kenrick readied an arrow and struck the armed goblin right between the eyes. The second dropped its blade and charged Kenrick. Skillfully he unsheathed his iron long sword and, even though it appeared to be dull, made short work of the rancid fiend. Satisfied with the work, he continued down the next hall to the right, finding a stairway leading up.

Warily he gazed at the opening to where the stair led. Once atop the stairs he peered inside, watching as the hall curved to the left and then back to the right. This time he could see the faint blue-ish tint on the walls. The very faint blue-ish tint you would find when about to exit a darkened stonewalled area and find yourself outside in the fresh air. _'Could this be? Could this possibly be the exit?'_ Indeed it was. Eyes squinting in the fresh light, he gazed at the tunnel, allowing his eyes to adjust before going out. Already he could smell the fresh air coming from the exit. "Finally" he said aloud, a heart full of excitement.

In his excitement, Kenrick ran to the exit, forced the gate open, and just stood there, absorbing the wondrous warmth of the sun. Having not seen the sun, or even nature for that matter, in over a month now, he enjoyed every moment of the embrace given to him by graceful surroundings. Directly in front of him a dazzling wide stream ran through, separating him from an Ayleid ruin on the far beach. To his right a hill coursed upward, a small cave lay on its peak. And to his left another hill dotted with mighty trees, gently swaying in the wind. An elegant bridge jutted out from an uprising in the hill, and jutted out over the river. Several small boxes lay neatly placed around a lamppost built into the dock.

Engrossed in the scenery, he nearly forgot about his mission. Suddenly he remembered his task when the Amulet of Kings in the pouch strapped to his waist fell to the ground. "Ah yes, my mission. I must hurriedly get this to Jauffre and discover the truth about some things. But where do I start?"

Kenrick surveyed the land, and upon climbing the hill behind the sewers he discovered a great city – The Imperial City. Never had he realized the scale of it, having actually never seen it in broad daylight, and never seen it fully awake (the last time he was here was when he was dragged through by the Legionnaires). Amazed by the size, he ventured around, trying to find some sort of entrance.

Finally, Kenrick came upon a bridge, remembering that he crossed one to the entrance of the Prison District. "This area must be the Prison District. That," he pointed to the opposite side," must be the inner city." He walked up to the massive doors and pressed one in to enter the city. This is where he began his adventures as Kenrick, The Thief!


	4. How Did I?

Many, many people covered the entirety of the city. In no way had Kenrick seen so many people in one small part of a city before. Intrigued by the hustle and bustle of everyone, he strolled up to a guardsman and asked, "Which part of the city is this, sir?"

"The Market District, of course. Look around the bend of those buildings," he said pointing to the west, "the streets are covered in merchant stalls."

Kenrick looked that way, and noticed many people walking around with something or another resembling sold or bought items. _'Ah, yes… that makes perfect sense'_ he thought to himself. "Thank you" he said with a slight incline of his head and cheery smile.

"Glad to be of service, citizen" the guardsmen replied.

Wandering the streets of the imperial city proved tiresome. There was so much to see, yet only a little time in each day to see it all. He noted several merchants selling weaponry, and several stores with either a coat of arms or repairing utensils painted on signs hanging above the doorways. Deciding it would be a good idea to get to know the place, he visited several of the weapon and armor shops in hopes of finding decent equipment for his long journey. Unfortunately for him, everything was so expensive. If he were even to buy a decent weapon it would cost him nearly all of his findings thus far. Out of the blue he remembered his discovering of several beautiful gems. "I'm sure I'll make a modest profit from these here gems."

Searching the place for such a shop proved tedious, for only one shop in the place actually bought and traded jewels as a first profession. "Red Diamond Jewelry" Kenrick read as he gazed over the sign before walking in. A tall, brown-haired Nord garbed in fine clothing stood behind the counter, meticulously polishing his "rare" collection of jewels. Upon noticing Kenrick, he quickly covered the gems and stored them in a locked compartment under his desk. Eyeing Kenrick profusely he inquired, "Welcome to good 'ol Hamlof Red-Tooth's fine assortment of jewelry. Can I help you with anything… err… young man?" Obviously he found Kenrick a threat – a young "adventurer" by the looks of it, possibly coming to relieve him of his fine possessions.

"Possibly" replied Kenrick, laying the eight gems he found back in the caverns on the counter in front of the Nord.

Ogling at the jewels, lusting for the beautiful gems to be in his inventory, the Nord asked, "You wish to sell these to me?" Kenrick nodded. "Well, let us check the value of these gems shall we?" Hamlof waltzed to the back of the room and opened a cabinet with a small magnifying glass set upon a raised pedestal, and a compass set off to the right.

'_He obviously takes his job seriously'_ thought Kenrick. _'Either seriously, or he is madly in love with himself and his profession.'_

Hamlof returned to the jewels and thoroughly inspected them. Using the compass he measured their sizes, and with the magnifying glass he inspected the quality. With a sigh he told Kenrick, "I am afraid these aren't of very good quality, my boy. I'll give you an even two hundred for the lot of 'em." With a suspicious smile he wrapped his fingers around the jewels and pulled them closer to himself.

"Not so fast." Kenrick disbelieved everything the jeweler said. Gently he picked up a diamond and raised it to the light. A perfect prism of vibrant colors shown through the gem and scattered around the room, and he said in a harsh tone, "Looks damn near perfect to me. A thousand for them all and I'll be out of your hair."

Angry at the lad, the Nord huffed and puffed. "You dare question my judgement? I am the trained specialist in this store, not you!" Hamlof retorted. "Four hundred and I ain't goin' no higher!" He slammed his fist on the counter trying to intimidate Kenrick. But Kenrick only raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Seven fifty and you got yourself a deal." Kenrick seemed sure the trader would accept now.

"No way am I payin' over five" Hamlof's nose was furiously flaring by now.

"No less than seven fifty? I guess I'll take them elsewhere, perhaps I can get them for more at another jeweler in another city… one willing to pay more for these "flawless" gems" Kenrick retorted over-emphasizing the word "flawless".

Hamlof knew he had been outsmarted, and gave in. "Wait!" he said anxiously. "Fine, seven fifty it is. Take the damn gold and be gone with you." Humbly accepting the satisfied amount of gold, Kenrick pocketed the money and left the store.

Once out of earshot from the store Kenrick said, "Cheapskate. Doubtfully he's ever had a woman." He chuckled and continued. By now he hopefully had more than enough to purchase a new weapon, along with some basic armor. '_Well, this armor will do for now'_ he looked to the rusted iron encapsulating his vital points, currently covered in minor blood stains and plenty of dents and nicks, and decided perhaps he should go all out and purchase a new set… that is if he could somehow sell his current set for more than it would be worth to repair. "But that'll have to be for tomorrow." Already the sun sank below the height of the buildings and the streets were clearing. But night time was the least of his problems, for hunger began to gnaw at his stomach. Not having food all day can do that to you. "I guess with all of the excitement I completely forgot about food. So, where is the local tavern?" He looked to a place across the street from Hamlof's "Red Diamond Cheapskatery" as he liked to call it. Several people filed inside a building labeled as "Merchant's Inn". _'Sounds interesting'_ he thought to himself.

Commotion in every which direction filled the room. The idle chatter of merchants and the general discussions of old pals mixed together in a mass of incomprehensible noise. Casually, Kenrick looked around for the Inn keeper. Noticing his balding head bobbing up and down as he brought drinks to several tables, Kenrick waited for him to return to the counter.

"Greetings, and welcome to the Merchant's Inn. I'm Velus Hosidius, the Inn keeper. What can do you for young sir?" Finally, someone with respect for his customers.

"Uh, yes. What do you offer in terms of food and drink? Too, a bed would be nice."

"Sorry young sir, but I only offer drinks. Mead, beer, and various wines are what I offer. If you want a meal, head over to The Feed Bag across the street, caddy-corner to the Red Diamond Jewelry. It's owned by a Dunmer, Delos Fandas. He's a good friend of mine. Tell him Velus sends you and you might just get a discount on food."

"Thank you sir" Kenrick politely inclined his head. "Do you offer bedding services?"

"Ah yes, I knew I forgot to reply to one of your questions. The memory isn't what it used to be. If you wish to rent a room, it's twenty gold for the night." Kenrick paid the man, thanking him again, and headed over to The Feed Bag for a meal.

Surprisingly it wasn't as crowded as the Merchant's Inn. Only a few people ate in peace, and altogether in isolation. Kenrick walked up to the Dark Elf and said that Velus sent him.

"Ah, good 'ol Velus. He recommends new customers to me, and their first meal here is discounted. What can I get for you young master… eh?"

"Kenrick" he replied.

"Alright, what can I get for you young master Kenrick?"

"What do you offer?"

"Well, there's roasted sewer rat, particularly delicious if I might add. I serve several kinds of vegetables, prepared to your liking. Various fruits on a platter end a nice meal, and a few different kinds of meats; such as pork chops, venison, and beef. Whatever you want, basically." He waited patiently as Kenrick decided.

"I'll take the fruit platter as a side with some venison meat – oh how I long for venison."

"Ok, that'll be fifteen septims, discounted half off for the newest customer." Delos went back to his kitchen area and prepared the meal, warm and oh so delicious.

The savory flavor of the well-seasoned venison sunk into Kenrick's mouth, relishing every moment of the freshly prepared meal. The fruit platter consisted of grapes, sliced apple, blackberries, an orange and a sliced pear. Sinking his teeth into the moist, juicy fruits, Kenrick thanked Delos for everything. "This is all so amazingly good, Delos, thank you."

"Anytime I can be of service young master Kenrick." They exchanged smiles and handshakes and Kenrick went back to the Merchant's Inn for a good night's sleep in the amazing room provided… at least as good as it was until he was awoken by a hair-prickling presence.

Kenrick shot out of bed, a chill ran down his spine. Beady sweat dripped down his skin. Warily he glanced around the room – nothing in sight. Still, he couldn't help but feel something ominous lurked nearby – a darkened presence, suffusing the atmosphere of the room. He slowly slid out of bed and unsheathed his sword from beneath his pillow.

Gently he cracked open the door to his room and peeked outside surveying the hallway in both directions. Trying to shake the feeling off he shut the door and turned around to witness a glimmer bounce off a translucent object climbing in through the window. He raised his sword just in time to parry the blade of an assassin garbed in the black and red armor. The assassin grabbed him by his shirt and tossed him out the door, sending him slamming against the wall. Momentarily dazed, Kenrick fought to regain his balance. He managed to catch the assassin's hands in midair as they were about to plunge a deadly blow down into him. Conjuring up the rest of his strength he kicked the assassin square in his chest, sending him over the bed and smashing his neck against the table on the other side. With a sickening _SNAP_ he knew for certain the assassin was dead. Just as before the red and black armor disappeared leaving him clothed in the crimson robe.

Kenrick was curious as to why he was being hunted. He had only been seen by a few of the assassins, and furthermore, as far as he knew, none had escaped alive. He went over to the corpse and investigated several pockets hidden in the robe. One pocket revealed a letter stating:

_Sojano,_

_A former prisoner of the Imperial Guard was seen with the emperor and his mortal lackeys. He goes by the name of Kenrick. Find him and kill him. He possesses something of great value to our cause. Fail and you will die a horribly slow and excruciating death. Succeed, and you shall be promoted in both rank and stature. Do me this favor, and do not fail. He was last seen heading into the Market District of the Imperial City. Do not underestimate him._

_MC_

Horrified, Kenrick threw down the letter and sat on the edge of the bed. "I am to be murdered?" he quietly asked himself. "Why am I to be murdered… what have I done? What in Oblivion is going on?" He sighed for a moment and thought about what needed to be done. "I need information, and I can't just go venturing off to find Jauffre's location without first knowing where it is located. And even more so not even being prepared for such a journey, for it likely lies more than two days travel from here as all cities do from the Imperial city. Whoever this MC is, he obviously wants me dead. I'll need to ask around for Jauffre, yet be careful of whom I ask for spies could be everywhere. Perhaps Velus may know a thing or two. But it'll have to wait till morning."

Morning came… the room however, was barren of the body. Kenrick arose from his sleep only to notice the assassin was gone. "He couldn't have possibly lived through that. This is all too strange. But the time to discover that is not now, and any mention of it might cause more trouble than good." Yawning he stood up and strapped on his accoutrements, readied now for answers.

Gliding down the stairs, and reaching the bottom, he saw Velus over behind his counter polishing a glass with a rag. Velus looked up to see Kenrick with a not-so-happy look upon his face. Kenrick sat down on a barstool in front of the counter.

"Were the sleeping arrangements not to your satisfactory, sir?" Velus seemed genuinely upset that he had a possible displeased customer with the sleeping quarters.

"No, it's not that. The bed was superb."

Velus breathed a sigh of relief. "Then what seems to be the problem, young master?"

"I need help" Kenrick began. "I don't know who to trust in this city."

"Aye, there are many possible scallywags floating about." Velus nodded his head in agreement to Kenrick's statement.

"That's not what I mean, Velus." Kenrick glanced over to his right and noticed a hooded man sitting in a chair on the far side of the wall, nonchalantly smoking his pipe, and writing in his book. A menacing scar covered his left eye. Kenrick furrowed his brow and looked back to Velus. "I'm talking about people whom I can trust? I can ask you, hopefully, for you seem to be knowledgeable of the city."

"Go on" chided Velus when Kenrick halted to choose his words.

"I need to find someone," he glanced to his right and then back and spoke in a whisper, "someone of importance. A man by the name of Jauffre. His location, I'm afraid, I do not know. Have you ever heard of him?"

Velus only shook his head. "Can't say that I do" he said quietly. "But you may be able to ask any of the traveling merchants. They travel to and from all cities in Cyrodiil. Perhaps they have heard something?"

"No, I won't risk asking anyone from the outside. They may be… well… spies – the enemy."

"What enemy?" Velus was now becoming more intrigued in the conversation and pulled up a chair.

"Well, I am not exactly sure." Kenrick revealed the writ of assassination for him, but before handing it over to the Inn keeper he said, "This may sound strange, Velus, but I was to be assassinated last night, in the room you provided. The body of the assassin, however, has vanished. Look," he showed him the letter, "this is proof of his attempt."

"Well I'll be. Sounds like the work of the Dark Brotherhood or something. You must be either blessed by the Nines, or the assassin sent was a complete buffoon."

"Dark Brotherhood? Who are they?" Kenrick looked worried as he listened.

"You don't know who they are?" Kenrick shook his head. "Well, they're more of a rumor than anything really. They say when someone has anger enough against you; they speak to people who contact the Dark Brotherhood. They, in turn demand money and a blood-sacrifice – which turns out to be you right now."

"What could I have done to anger one so terribly? I don't know about them, this all sounds off. Well, do you know of anyone else who might be able to help track down this man I need?"

"There are rumors of a secret gang of bandits who call themselves the Thieves Guild, and are lead by the Gray Fox – a figure of legend really. He's said to have lived over three hundred years."

"How do I contact them, then, if they're so secret?" Kenrick sounded almost hopeless.

"They say the beggars are the Gray Fox's eyes and ears. They learn much for him and give him information on anything and everything. But, they doubtfully would be willing to share such valuable information, though, with an outsider, someone not in the Thieves Guild. Another rumor is that you must prove yourself somehow and they send a contact to you, telling you to meet what they call a Doyen, or clan head. What you must do now, I have no idea." Velus seemed proud of all that he knew.

Kenrick smiled and asked, "How do you know so much? Where do you get all of this information?"

Velus just shrugged and said, "I'm a good listener. You don't know the kinds of people I often get in here who have slightly too loud of voices. They oftentimes spill the beans on everything, or on at least just enough for me to hear of rumors."

They both laughed and Kenrick stood up to thank Velus and he went on his way, pondering everything the keeper had said. He walked along the crowded streets, rather aimlessly, just trying to figure things out. However, he looked up to see a hooded man smoking his pipe and leaning against a wall just to his left, this man too was writing in his book. As he passed by he could have sworn he heard a growl. It was the same man from the inn, for he had the same menacing scar. _'Am I being followed, stalked by this stranger?'_

Kenrick proceeded forward and rounded the next corner, looking back at the man as he turned and noticed the man began to move towards him. He pretended not to notice. Patiently walking along he peered back to see the man keeping his distance, but assuredly was following him. He decided to make a sprint ahead to hide in the cover of the next crowded area. The man took flight after him, knowing his cover was blown.

Hiding in amongst the crowd, Kenrick waited for the scarred man to get close enough. He was curious as to what he was writing down. The book jutted out ever-so-slightly from his right pocket, unprotected from "prying hands". Kenrick snuck up on him as he made his way into the crowd and pocketed the book from the stranger, calmly walking away just like everyone else. He glanced back to see the man panicking as he couldn't find the book. With a smug smile Kenrick made his way along with the crowd heading in and out between each section of the city. This crowd, though, led him into the Green Emperor Way.

He gazed up at the massive and majestic White Gold Tower… the site of the ancient Ayleid's stronghold, long before the coming of man. Now, it is used as the main focal point for political discussion. "It's even far grander than I ever had imagined. Amazing!" He gawked at its uniqueness, its beautiful white architecture. Walking down the stairs to the center of the main central area around the tower, he saw such magnificent architecture. Massive white pillars sat upon raised walls surrounding, in a circular motion, the white tower. He went off to the side, before going to the raised terrace around the tower, and found a nice tree to sit under. Curious of its inner contents, he opened the book. It went something like this.

_Kalathar,_

_My newest recruit… obviously Sojano failed miserably. Don't you fail me too! This Kenrick is much stronger than ever we had realized. He was able to defeat one of our greatest assassins. Somehow he awoke in time to sense danger had arrived. How is this possible, I wonder? Follow him, study him, but do not blow your cover. His intelligence is no doubt impressive as well. He will sense something is up if he sees you too often. Do not fail me now; we are close to obtaining the object I need. Find his weaknesses, discover where he is going. Write down everything you hear and see and report it to me immediately._

_MC_

His notes were scrawled about and somewhat difficult to read, for his grammar and legibility was blatantly atrocious. Although, Kenrick managed to make out part of the notes.

_Looking for sumwun kolld Jofree. Tolkd to inkeepr ubowt sumting. Hard to mak owt. Thu Meethek Don shal rize. Greet thu noo dae, bruthr._

"What in the world is the Meethek Don?" Kenrick pondered this over. "No doubt he spelled it wrong based on everything else. I need to find this Jauffre character. He alone can help me sort through everything going on." Suddenly someone appeared before him... out of nowhere? Of course not, but walked up to him rather. A meager dark elf woman stood before him, beckoning him to stand.

"This message is for you" she said, handing him a note. "Meet him at the Garden of Dareloth, in the Waterfront District, at midnight. Come alone." She walked away after saying all she was supposed to.

He opened the note, reading:

_Thief,_

_You have been requested to meet me, Armand Christophe, at the location provided. Based on the skills observed, you may prove a valuable asset to us. Come alone, or forfeit your chance of joining our guild._

_Armand Christophe_

_Doyen of the Thieves Guild_

"What did I do to get in? Oh well, I'm going!" Excited, Kenrick jolted off for the Waterfront District, repeating to himself _'Things will assuredly come together soon, I can feel it!'_


	5. Invitation Accepted

After hours of searching and asking the location of the Waterfront District, Kenrick learned that it lies beyond the Temple district, the southernmost district of the whole city. Once there he looked all over for a garden and discovered only one.

"This must be it" he said to himself.

Night had already made its way here, and midnight soon approached. Before too long, Kenrick saw a figure moving towards his location, a torch in his right hand and a book in his left. Unsure of whom it could be, Kenrick hid in a nearby bush to wait and see the unidentified figure.

A Redguard soon stood before him. With chocolaty skin, deep brown eyes, and a slicked-back black hair-do, the leather garbed human was indeed Armand Christophe. Kenrick stepped out from the bush just as two others walked up to be possible candidates for the guild. An Argonian male by the name of Amusei, and a female Woodelf by the name of Methredel. Both stood on either side of Kenrick.

"Wow!" exclaimed Armand. "Never have we had so many new candidates at once. Usually it's one… _OCCASIONALY_ two. But never three. Well, in light of this intriguing news I propose the current situation be handled in a different way. Instead of just finding me the book of Amantius Allectus... in being there is only one... I propose we set a race." Nodding to affirm his decision he smiled as Amusei and Methredel groaned, saying "What!?" Kenrick just stood there, puzzled as to what exactly was going on.

"Yes, indeed! A race!" Armand chuckled a bit at the notion. "The first to bring me the book of Amantius Allectus wins the race and is hereby accepted into the Thieves Guild."

"I'll be the first one to nab it!" exclaimed Methredel and started to run off.

"Wait, Methredel…" said Armand tapping his foot on the ground, "you may know the rules, but these two sure don't."

"Awww, can't we just skip them? It's not like they'd try anything anyways." Methredel seemed disappointed because, in living in the Temple District, she knew exactly where his house was.

"No, they need to know the rules. It wouldn't be fair for you to get a head start on them." Armand said.

Kenrick thought for a second and chuckled. "What's so funny?" asked Armand.

"Methredel?" Kenrick said

"Yeah, what is it? She replied.

"You apparently have tried to gain access to the guild before, yet failed." He chuckled some more.

"Well, it… it wasn't… er, my fault. I had no control over why I couldn't complete the task he had for me to gain admission." She glared at Kenrick, furious of his insults.

"Hey, the more the merrier, right?"

"Oh, bugger you!" Methredel turned away from him.

"Good, good." Armand liked to see a little bit of rivalry. "Contention between two opposing teams is a good thing. It motivates us to get the job done quicker." He looked to all three and cleared his throat. "Now," he began, "the rules of this competition should be simple enough to follow. The first and actual only rule is: do NOT kill the other members of this competition, or anyone else for that fact. We're the Thieves Guild, not the damned Dark Brotherhood."

Amusei and Methredel nodded their heads in affirmation, but Kenrick thought to himself, _'So, they are real. Was it really them who sent the assassin?'_

"Is everyone clear on this... Kenrick" Armand looked to Kenrick because he saw no sign of affirmation on his part.

"Oh, yes sir." Kenrick nodded in agreement.

"Good. Now, Amantius lives somewhere in the Imperial City, though it is your job to find out where he lives, and where he keeps the book. Go and get me that book!"

"Yes sir!" the three echoed in unison.

Remembering what Velus told him about the beggars, "They're his eyes and ears, but don't expect them to give information to an outsider, a non-member of the Thieves Guild." It just so happened that a beggar, Puny-Ancus, sat on his little cot next to the wall just a few feet away.

When Kenrick approached him he said in a pathetic miniscule voice, "Please sir, I'm starving. I ain't gots nothin' ta eat. On just a couple coins I could eat for a week." Feeling sympathetic, and half wanting to pry some sort of information from him, Kenrick knelt down and gave him ten coins. "Whoa! Thank ye very much kind sir" the beggar replied in earnest.

"Can you help me with a problem, beggar?" Kenrick looked into his eyes telling him it was safe.

"Sure, with what ya gave me, I'd tell ya everything I knows." Ancus nodded his head vigorously waiting for Kenrick to ask.

"Where does Amantius Allectus live, what is the quickest way to get there, and whether you know or not is ok, but where does he keep his special book?"

"He lives on the far eastern side of the Temple district. As soon as you enter the gates, take a sharp right. You'll see a split between two buildings after a short while. Immediately after going through the split you'll see his door on the left. His book, and you didn't hear this from me… I overheard him talking once, saying there is a hidden vault behind his bookshelf on the first floor. The red book in the dead center is actually a lever of some sort. Pull it and the bookshelf will slide open, revealing his secret vault. I hope that is all the information you need to accomplish yer task, sir."

"It was above and beyond what was asked, Ancus." Kenrick, feeling extra generous, left another ten coins in his care.

The faint voice of Ancus sounded as Kenrick sped away, "God bless ye kind sir!"

Quickly Kenrick sped to catch up with Methredel. Around the first corner and across the stone bridge leading to the guard's tower in the center of the small lake encompassed by the Waterfront, Methredel ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. "Easily done," said Kenrick, quickly gaining speed on the little Bosmer. To avoid running into her as she ran through the gates, Kenrick ran to small wall outlining the outer wall and door; he jumped on it and then clear over her head, rolling across the ground, and sped away in front of her. Remembering how the beggar said to the right and through the split.

"Ha! Wrong turn!" cried Methredel, "his home is way on the other side."

Paying no attention to her, Kenrick ran through the the split and abruptly stopped, and hid in the shadows of the two buildings. A patrol of two city guards came round from the left, heading for the watchmen's quarters in the corner of the city wall to the right. Patiently he sat, waiting for the opportune moment to sneak out and into the house. As soon as the guardsmen were past the split entrance and out of sight, Kenrick stealthily snuck over to Amantius' door, picked the lock, and went inside.

Just as Ancus said the bookshelf on the bottom floor with a large red book on its center shelf, was the key to this puzzle. Gently Kenrick lifted the book back, and watched as the secret hiding place became a now known fact. Behind the bookshelf a locked vault sat in the wall. Carefully, Kenrick inserted his lock pick inside the mechanism. Steadily he lifted each tumbler into place. _KLINK!_ The vault was unlocked and the book of Amantius was in Kenrick's possession.

Methredel walked in the house just in time to see Kenrick claim his prize. Kenrick turned around to see and gave a smug grin. He slowly walked past her, waving the book in front of her face. She jumped for it, but couldn't outreach his superior height. "Guess, you won't be getting accepted tonight, Methredel, huh?"

"Thief!" she desperately exclaimed. "You stole that from me! Now I'll have to wait till the next time he's ready to test me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. After all, this IS the Thieves Guild. Tough luck for you. Perhaps you'll get in next time." He walked outside and sped down the alleyway between the two houses and straight on to Armand.

"Incredible!" Armand had never seen someone return so quickly with the required item to gain entrance. It only took Kenrick twenty minutes. "With this, you've EARNED your right into the Thieves Guild, Kenrick. Your current rank is Pick Pocket. As you complete special assignments the Doyens of the guild will advance you to a higher rank. Congratulations, you're in."

"Well, when can I start the "special" assignments?" Kenrick was eager to begin his newfound profession.

"Whoa, hold your horses, kid! Not so fast." Armand crossed his arms. "You'll get no such jobs until you've proved yourself to the guild."

"What? How do I do that?" Frustrated, Kenrick tried to get the information out of him by asking a few more times.

Armand, though, chose to slowly reply, instead of speed through everything. "To prove yourself," he began, "you must sell two hundred and fifty gold worth in stolen items. That's the standard amount for new members. You shall sell the items to the Thieves Guild's own merchants. They're called fences. And the first fence available to you is Ongar the Weary of Bruma. As you advance in rank, higher rated fences will become available, allowing you to make more money off of stolen items. This is how we can tell whether or not you have been an active member of our guild. After all, we are thieves, and thieves do take what they can find, AND get away with it." He chuckled and looked back to Kenrick. "There are a few rules though. You think you can handle some rules of our guild?"

Kenrick nodded and said, "I didn't fail you this time did I?"

"Alright then, here they are." Armand cleared his throat. "The first, basic rule: don't steal from your fellow clan members. The second: don't kill anyone on the job. Like I said, we're thieves, not bloody assassins. And the third: don't steal from beggars. They are under the direct protection of the Gray Fox. He supplies them with protection, and they, in turn, supply him with valuable information. The most valuable to us are those particularly here at The Waterfront – the central trade port of Cyrodiil."

"So that rumor is true then, huh?"

"You bet. And the fourth and most important rule of all: Never compromise the guild. We are a secretive network, Kenrick. We'd like to keep it that way. Were you to break this rule there would be serious consequences to pay, and no coming back. Now, go fence some valuable items. I receive constant reports from the fences, and I'll be watching your progress. You show potential, kid. But potential is nothing without discipline." Those words stuck with Kenrick for the rest of his days… guiding his every action.


	6. Creeping Hands: The Sign Proved True

Back in the room of The Merchant's Inn, Kenrick sat motionless on the edge of his bed. The night was nearly over, and he had much work ahead of him.

"The first fence is all the way in Bruma. I hear it's quite chilly up there these days... but, where is Bruma exactly? I'll need to acquire a map. Definitely I won't steal one. I'll pay for it honestly, this time. I'll ask Velus if he knows of anywhere I can acquire one. But for the other question, where to begin my thievery?"

Several stores quickly popped into mind, but each wouldn't seem satisfactory. That is, until one store in particular came to him, heavenly lights shining all around the dastardly idea. "Hamlof Red-Tooth and his store of Red Diamond Cheapskatery will be my first target. "High quality" gems shall be more than enough for the needed amount." Although, looking down to his armor, he knew he required a new outfit – something less noisy than metal. Yet with the dawn almost here, Kenrick couldn't do anything until after the sun rose and sank again.

* * *

_The room near total darkness, dreary, dark walls lined his surroundings. A tunnel ran before him and at the end a brilliant white light with a dark figure standing at its end. This haunting figure of deep darkness bid him follow, but it seemed the faster he ran to discover its identity the farther away the figure became._

_Hastily he darted down the hallway, almost there now. The miles of tunnel-work behind him and this darkness before him, Kenrick halted. A face of its own it had none, only darkness. Closer he looked to the figure, this time noticing two humble eyes. Sorrow filled its every gaze, longing for something it looked into Kenrick's own. Those eyes... those humble eyes of sadness, he had seen them before. Yet, to whom did they belong?_

_Suddenly the tunnel around him began to sink away. The figure drew farther and farther from his place, yet didn't stir. It was Kenrick who was moving, moving backwards away from the shadow. He ran to it, trying to stay in its presence. For some unapparent reason the presence of it seemed comforting, almost… at home. But to no avail did his constant chasing prove._

* * *

Haunted by this dream, Kenrick jolted out of bed. Heavy breathing made him feel lightheaded, taxed of energy, and aching all over. _'What could it mean?'_ he thought silently. _'Who was he? I know those eyes, and feel like I have known them forever.'_ Disconcerted, Kenrick decided to head down stairs. It was nearly noon, and much "investigation" lined his path for the day.

"Why hello there, master Kenrick" greeted Velus. "Did you find everything you've been looking for?"

"Not really" Kenrick couldn't possibly tell him that he was now actively part of the Thieves Guild.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Velus pushed over a glass of freshly juiced fruits. "I call it Velus' Amazing Fruit Drink! Pretty catchy, eh?" Kenrick nodded and smiled. "Well it's on the house."

"Thank you, Velus." Kenrick pulled the drink closer to his person and slowly drank of the outstanding concoction. "This is good, Velus. I think you've just made my day."

"Happy to oblige, my good man."

They both exchanged smiles, upon Kenrick's finishing the drink, and he asked, "Where might one find a map?"

"Planning on leaving the city?" Velus made a new friend, and didn't like to see his friends leave the city.

"Unfortunately" Kenrick said. "You knew I'd have to leave sooner or later to find Jauffre."

"Yes, yes, I know. One might try the cartographer in the Elven Garden's District. A man called Erdmaeus runs the place. He's a mighty High Elf, yet not much of a sorcerer surprisingly. He experimentally uses his magic mostly for making his maps so incredibly accurate. Look for a place called Travelers of Cyrodiil. He'll gladly sell you one of his maps for a decent donation of fifty septims."

Kenrick nodded, saying, "Thanks again, Velus. You have been a great help to me. Here, take this. It's the least I can do for your generous hospitality." Kenrick slid over fifty septims to the Inn keeper.

"Why thank you young master, but I don't deserve this."

"Yes you do. It's a gift from me to you. You aren't like most people in this city, corrupted and only seeking after travelers' money-bags. You have helped me so much and without even a hint towards an "Ahem," and rub your fingers as if wanting some money to sate your coffers."

"I shall use it most wisely. Gods' blessings upon ye, young man." With that Kenrick smiled and headed out to unleash his plans.

It was a beautiful morning. The streets, being about noon, were fully crowded. The excited chatter of seller/buyer conversations filled the air. Kenrick took one deep breath of the new air. _'Let's see what we can do.'_

Heading over to Halmof's first, he decided to investigate the place a little.

"What are you doing here?" Hamlof glared at Kenrick.

"Oh me?" Hamlof's eyes grew narrow. "Why, I'm just checking your selection. After how "generous" you were to me the other day, I thought I might stop in and see what you had in stock."

"Why would you want to do that? You think you can come in here and sell me the petty jewels in exchange for high value. You don't deserve to see what my inventory holds." Hamlof was about to shoo him away when he got an idea.

"Actually," he began, "perhaps I can interest you in a most valuable item. I'd be willing to sell it to you cheap. There's only one small problem."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Kenrick glared back at him.

"Well, this here ring" Hamlof pulled a golden ring out from under his desk "is a prized possession of mine. It has… err, "won" me many items."

"Really? How so." Kenrick became suspicious of the item.

"Yep, it's called… the "Specter's Ring", and is said to grant the wearer near invisibility, but at a price." His twisted lip curled.

"What's the price?" Kenrick now knowing the seller was up to something.

"It drains you of any magicka you may possess." Little did Hamlof know, Kenrick was born under the sign of the Atronach. He already had a limited magicka supply without having to replenish it with magical substances.

"Pah! Magicka doesn't concern me anyways. What's your price?"

"Seeing as how no one is willing to buy it, I'll sell it to you for a mere two hundred."

"One fifty and it's done." Hamlof generously handed over the ring as Kenrick paid him.

"Thank you for your business you little thief!" Hamlof chuckled.

Kenrick turned around and gave a mischievous smile. "Oh, you have no idea." He cackled for a dramatic effect, leaving Hamlof scared and confused.

'_Don't worry Kenrick old buddy, you'll get your money back… EASILY!'_

Venturing around the city rewarded him with a new suit of leather armor, a bit of money earned from his old armor, and a hood to cover his face in case of anything going horribly wrong. _'Were anyone to see me, this hood should conceal, at least, my identity.'_ Too, he managed to make it over to Erdmaeus' store for a well detailed pocket map. _'With this I should have no trouble finding my destined locations.' _

* * *

Night came, and patiently he awaited the hour to arrive. The hour on which all lights in the shops went out, people locked their doors, and finally went to sleep. Carefully, he slunk to some nearby crates outside of Hamlof's door. A patrol of Legionnaires passed by, leaving Kenrick in silence. Tenderly he inserted his lock pick and opened Hamlof's door. The store was a "gold mine" of sorts. Gold necklaces, golden rings, even golden hairpieces for the ladies – very, very fine and of pure gold. All, however, were in expertly crafted locks. _'This may prove more difficult than I had imagined.'_ But in the end he came out on top, proving the better "locksmith".

Leisurely he stashed the items into his rucksack, in being nearly empty, except for the occasional piece of bread or cured and packaged meat. Kenrick had to sell most of his possessions away to safely carry all of his findings to Bruma. Remembering how Hamolf had stored some gems under his counter, Kenrick decided to alleviate Hamlof's unworthy burden of them.

Now having more than enough to fence away, Kenrick started to leave. But one cabinet he had missed, off in the back corner of the store. Within lay the most beautiful and ornate piece of jewelry Kenrick had ever laid eyes upon. A silver serpent coiled around a precious diamond gem lay ever so gently embedded in a sea of gold and silver. Inspecting the lock proved he needed a key, for the lock was too ornate for any ordinary lock pick to handle. _'Hamlof must have the key somewhere up there. But I won't want to risk exposing myself to him.'_ Looking back to the jewel he remembered his newly paid for ring. Hurriedly he slipped on the ring, not caring about whether or not his magicka faded from him. _'I won't be in need of it right now, only to be stealthy.'_ But little did he know, Hamlof had not been entirely honest. Yes, the ring turned him translucent, and drained his body of every ounce of magicka, but too it sucked away his strength and was burning him profusely.

Silently writhing on the floor, Kenrick could do nothing to alleviate the pain. His blood felt as if it were on fire, boiling in his veins. His mind felt as if it were melting. It took every bit of effort on his part not to go into a screaming frenzy. Although he didn't know how much longer he could last.

Suddenly a bluish-white aura appeared about him, curing the burning sensation and alleviating his pain. His strength magically returned, and he felt stronger than ever. Too he sensed his magicka returning rapidly. His limited supply of magic now felt as if it were going to bubble over and out of him. Never had he felt so good, so energized.

"What the hell is going on?" he whispered. Then all-of-the-sudden he remembered his birth sign. _'A burden it may prove, yet in the end could be more helpful than not.'_ The Atronach within him absorbed the deathly magical energies of the ring and replenished his body with a renewed vigor. He closed his eyes, thanking his destined stars, and then continued his current task.

Upstairs, Hamlof lay upon his bed, a heavy sleeper, and an even louder snore erupted from his mouth. Giggling at the sight and sound of the hulking man, Kenrick furtively crept to Hamlof's side, noticing a small key-sized pouch dangling from his waist. _'I'll take that'_ thought Kenrick as he lifted the key from within the pouch. Another, larger, pouch sat at the head of his bed next to a table on the ground. Tapping it proved the sack was packed with at least five-hundred septims worth. Noiselessly he lifted the pouch and escaped the room.

The ornate jewel was within Kenrick's grasp as he opened the lock, and rescued the precious item. But little did he know, he was being watched… well as watched as someone can be who is nearly invisible. Hamlof woke up – for every night past midnight he went down stairs to ogle his collection. But to his surprise he saw a glimmer of light bounce of the translucent object.

"Hey!" he yelled. Kenrick spun around in surprise. "Whoever you are, drop the item and back away. I'm warning you! I'll call the guards and you'll be sorry you ever set foot in my shop."

"Not today." Kenrick laughed, snagged the item, and bolted out the door. Hamlof made a quick chase but couldn't keep up with the superior speed of the youthful lad.

"Damn you, cursed thief!" Remembering Kenrick's last words, he yelled, "I know it was you Kenrick! I'll find you eventually. You can't hide forever!"

Kenrick, knowing his cover was blown, decided it best to escape the city tonight, and not return until he had sold all of his loot to Ongar the Weary all the way to the north in Bruma. _'A two day travel,'_ he thought, _'it is a good thing I prepared for such a trip before doing the theft.'_


	7. Down the Road

The cool, misty airs of the night are wonderful traveling conditions for an "on-the-run" thief. Crickets chirring pleasantly in the background, and, except for the occasional wolf howl, all stayed peaceful. A fragrant breeze swept through the country side around the Imperial City, the trees swayed in its presence. Most living creatures, both man and beast, slept soundly through the night, leaving little for Kenrick to watch for.

In front of Kenrick ran the mighty bridge of the Imperial City, a full several hundred yards long. He crouched behind a tree to the left outside the Talos Plaza District, suspiciously surveying his surroundings. _'If I can just manage to cross the bridge without being seen, I'll be a free bird.'_ He had to slip the ring off sooner or later, obviously trying to keep it on for the remainder of the inner city. But once outside, it needed to recharge its stored magicka, as all magical items eventually do – the effects of the ring were wearing thin, and his appearance was at near full visibility.

Across the bridge Kenrick saw a single small light heading across toward the city. Blackened by the night at first, the figure holding it turned out to be a messenger of some kind. He wore a white cloth cuirass with some form of beast's head knitted into the fabric across the chest. _'The symbol of Kvatch'_ thought Kenrick. To his right he heard the door open and a guard came outside to receive the messenger's news.

"Help! Help! My city is in need of aid!" The messenger, distraught in appearance and voice, brought horrible news. "Kvatch is under attack by the forces of Oblivion!"

"When did this happen?" The guard looked sternly into his eyes.

"Not two days ago." The man was out of breath from the hasty traveling, and his horse seemed to be in even worse condition, laying on its side desperately gasping for breath.

"I'll inform High Chancellor Ocato. Don't worry, I'll see to it personally a squad is dispatched in the morning."

"Oh thank you, thank you!" Relieved, the man went to tend to his horse, caring for nothing more than the word of the Imperial City and his precious steed that he loved dearly – in being a messenger one would feel such a way about one's form of transportation.

Overhearing the news, Kenrick decided it time to try and find Jauffre. "Close shut the Jaws of Oblivion", the last words of Uriel Septim to Kenrick, kept ringing in the depths of his mind. Quickly, he pulled out his map, doing his best to measure the distance between here and Bruma. "Oh, it's not nearly as far I had imagined. Only slightly less than a day and a half's journey should bring me to the outskirts of County Bruma. I best be on my way, then. Perhaps once in Bruma I might find a viable source of information." With that he went on, keeping to his word that he made not even five days ago with the Emperor.

* * *

Tired and weary, Kenrick drew near. Traveling through the rest of the night and most of the next day, he was painstakingly close to Bruma. _'I can't stop now… not after all that has happened. Bruma… what was is it about Bruma that I have heard once before. Not too long ago actually. Someone I've met… or something I overheard in a conversation.'_ Kenrick pressed himself to continue, not giving up. Already he could see the snowy peaks of the Jerall Mountains. Their white tops glistened in the sunlight. Even from far away the sight almost seemed too unbearable during daylight. But with the sun steadily sinking into the sky, the glare wasn't that bad, and the sight of them was sheer delightful.

As night fell, he was only minutes away from the gates of Bruma, and the city became visible as he climbed the last hill before reaching the mighty Nordic city. And behind the city, way up on top of – not quite a mountain, but certainly – a massive hill, laid the ancient Akaviri fort of Cloud Ruler Temple. _'Baurus! That is from whom I heard something about Bruma. The Blades live up there. They might have some sort of information on the whereabouts of Jauffre. I'll visit them before the night is over.'_

Now the city gates stood before him. Two town guards stood at the entrance, halberds in their hands. "Stop right there." Kenrick jumped a little, not sure of what to expect from them. "As the new law of Bruma, all travelers destined for the inner city must pay a road tax of twenty five gold." Grudgingly, Kenrick parted with the gold and entered the city.

In the center and on the right sides of the inner city, three separate terraces, each lined by stone buildings with wooden-shingled roofs, eventually led up to the inner castle wall, and straight into the main castle chamber. In the center, the mighty chapel of Bruma stood proud. Each city had its own chapel, except for the Imperial City having the Temple of the One. But they wouldn't be of any use to Kenrick until… later.

Anyways, he looked around, and to his left he noticed similar structures as that to the middle and right sides of the city, except the houses were all wooden built, each with thatched roofing – this definitely being the poorer side of town. _'Perhaps Ongar the Weary lives in the poorer area.'_

Kenrick walked to the left, past the general pub of Bruma, Olav's Tap and Tack. Interested, he walked inside, asking questions for answers he sought. A tall and fair-haired Nord walked up to him, scrupulously looking him over. Kenrick stood back, offended by the invasion of his privacy.

"Yo… hic… you lookin'… hic… for old Ongar?" Obviously he was drunk, his breath smelled of the awful Nordic mead. Kenrick nodded. "Follow me then… hic."

Following the Nord brought Kenrick to a small hutch behind the chapel. "Insi… hic… insi… hic." His constant hiccupping was beginning to drive Kenrick batty. Knowing what he meant, Kenrick entered the house with the Nord behind him. "You seeking Ongar the Weary as a fence I assume" the inebriated accent suddenly cleared up.

"You were only playing drunk?" Kenrick seemed surprised, he was certain he smelled the strong mead on the Nord's breath.

"Nah!" the Nord exclaimed. "I'm a Nord, incase you haven't noticed. That stuff don't bother me at all. I played drunk to get you out of the bar. I received word you might be arriving. It's right here and says "To Ongar, a new recruit should be heading your way soon. Do, at least, offer him some decent hospitality if you know what I mean." That's from 'ol what's-his-face down in the Waterfront District. You know… err, Armand."

"Ah, I see." Kenrick nodded, waiting for the Nord to go on. After seeing he didn't have anymore to say, Kenrick revealed only a couple of the valuable items he had "confiscated" when in Hamlof's.

"Ooh! Pretty stones and jewels ya got there, boy. Not bad, not bad at all. I'll give you the required two fifty for the both of 'em. My buyers are bound to like these. I could make a fortune… eh… maybe not. But they should sell fine."

"Thank you, Ongar." Kenrick was about to leave when he decided to ask about how to quickly reach the fort behind Bruma. He figured it would be safe enough, at least, to ask about it. "Uh, you wouldn't, by chance, know how to quickly get to that fort behind Bruma would you?"

"You mean the old Akaviri fort" Ongar inquired. Kenrick shook his head. "Sure, go out Bruma's north gate and follow the path. But I wouldn't suggest you goin' up there."

"Why not?"

"There be expertly trained warriors up there, and not in the good way. I hear they're deadly swordsman and don't take kindly to strangers just waltzin' up to their gate. Why would you want to go up there anyways, if you don't mind my asking?"

Kenrick briefly thought it over and said, "I am looking for a man by the name of Jauffre. He used to reside in that temple, and I'm heading there to inquire his current location. You wouldn't happen to know his whereabouts would you?"

Ongar shook his head. "Nope, I ain't even ever heard of the man. But I'm warning you, boy. They're deadly warriors. Don't say I never told ya when your head is a rollin' away down the slope."

"I thank you for your concern, but I need to get there and fast. I need to deliver something of great importance to them." The two shook hands and Kenrick left in a hurry, the sun, now, nearly below the horizon, and he had little time to spare.

A multileveled slope ran in a zig-zag pattern leading up to the massive doors of the Akaviri temple. Upon approaching the doors, they gently slid open, revealing four trained Akaviri swordsmen and one archer.

"Halt, who goes there?" A muscular and tan-skinned imperial walked up to Kenrick. "State your business here, traveler. If you fail to mention your name, purpose, and current destination, we'll run you through."

Kenrick stood tall, and looked into the man's eyes. "I am Kenrick, former prisoner of the Imperial City. I was let free by the Emperor and his body guards."

"You'd better explain yourself quickly. Your choice of wording thus far has proven you to be an assassin." The man stepped forward a little closer, his hand on the hilt of his blade.

"I was let free because the escape route led through my cell. The captain of those specific guards, Renault, led the group. She, however, was brutally assassinated as she stepped out further into an opening, trying to make clear our path. The other guard, Glenroy, was assassinated as well."

"Yes, yes, we know this already. Baurus brought their blades to the…"

"Hall of the warriors" Kenrick interjected.

"How do you know of this place, civilian?" The man became even more suspicious of Kenrick's mentioning it.

"Baurus said he would place their blades in the Hall of the Warriors after I retrieved both Renault's and Glenroy's." The soldiers gasped.

"So you ARE the one Baurus mentioned." Kenrick looked confused. "Baurus told us of another member to the group in the bowels. Kenrick… is that your name?" Kenrick nodded. "Then by all means, come in. We have much to discuss."

A large set of stone stairs guided their path to the top of the fort. To the right two warriors sparred on a patch of green grass, clashing their trained blades in perfect unison. On the left a stable sat alone, several stallions penned up inside. But at the very top, the temple itself stood. With such unique architecture, Kenrick just gazed upon the incredible craftsmanship of the building. Slatted shingles descended from a pointed top down to four points on each corner of the building, each corner then curved slightly upwards. Two great pillars stood in front of the entrance and behind them two descending narrow stairs led in opposite directions to different wings of the temple.

"By the way, I'm captain Steffan – Chief of Cloud Ruler in the absence of Jauffre."

"Jauffre?" Kenrick grew excited at the mention of his name.

"All will be explained. Come in and have a seat."

Inside, the building seemed even more ornate than its outwardly counterpart. Four large pillars placed on each side of the room stood high and mighty, supporting the skillfully crafted wooden ceiling. Two doors on each side of the room led to the two separate wings. In the center wall, a mighty fire blazed, providing great comfort from the outside climate. Above the fire mantle, hanging on the walls, every blade of the past Akaviri heroes honorably hung in remembrance of their sacrifices.

"This is the Hall of the Warriors, Kenrick. The most honored place in all of Cyrodiil. Never before has she known greater warriors than these. Warriors who sacrificed their lives for the better of all." Steffan found a seat at one of the many tables bordering the center walkway. Kenrick sat in front of him.

"This place is simply amazing, but it is not why I came here, Steffan." Kenrick looked sternly at him, showing him he had serious business to attend to.

"Go on. Baurus may have told us what happened, but I wish to hear your side of the story." And for the next hour Kenrick explained everything he went through, minus joining the Thieves Guild. The event of the assassin and the unconfirmed group with which they involved particularly seemed to interest Steffan. With many "Ooohs" and several more "Ahhhs" Kenrick finished his story, and patiently waited for Steffan to reply.

"Indeed, this is all troubling news." Steffan ran a hand through his hair, and then copiously over his short blackened stubble of a beard. "Well, Jauffre, you see, hasn't been seen in Cloud Ruler Temple for about three years now. However, we do know, more or less, where he is." Kenrick sat straight up, paying extra close attention to every detail. "He told us that he would become a monk, this much you already know. However, he decided to move quite far away, near Chorrol as far as I know. Alas, the exact coordinates for his establishment, I am afraid to say, we don't exactly know. But asking around Chorrol for Jauffre could turn something up; although, I wouldn't recommend using his name. Try asking for monks in the vicinity. That would be your safest bet."

"Alright," Kenrick said, but then asking, for he had no idea – he had never been there, and his judgment from the Imperial City to Bruma was only a lucky guess - "How far is it from here? And what way would you suggest I head. I have only a little amount of time. I have already heard confirmed reports of…" he whispered, "attacks from Oblivion."

Steffan gasped. "How can it be? Sightings like these have not been in over a hundred years."

"I don't know, Steffan." Kenrick sighed, and then looked at him. "But intend to find out." Steffan nodded, and proceeded to properly outfit him for the journey.

In the armory where Steffan led Kenrick, he gave him a freshly made suit of iron. "You are not a blade, so I am forbidden from giving to you our prized armors. But this set of sturdy iron will do more good for you than that cheap leather. If what you say is true, the forces of Oblivion would smite you in a single blow." Kenrick didn't seem pleased with that last comment, so he gladly accepted the armor and packed his leather away for a later time.

Bringing Kenrick outside, Steffan introduced him to the fastest steed in the stables. A silvery white mane lined the back of his dark brown head and neck. His hind quarters were silver white as well, but small brown spots dotted his left flank. "His name is Fahlten, or lightning in our tongue. Don't ask me from what language the name has derived; he has shared his name willingly with our tamers. He is a… unique horse. And by far the fastest and strongest horse in all the lands of Tamriel. We would be honored to bestow him to you, as a rider."

"This means much to me. Thank you." Kenrick bowed low, thanking him for the prodigious steed.

After a few more supplies were offered to Kenrick, mainly edible items, Steffan showed Kenrick, on his map, of where exactly to go – heading south to Bruma, and then cut cross country straight on to Chorral.

"And Kenrick," he said, "be safe. The enemy comes in many forms; take it from one who knows. Although this enemy may be new to my knowledge, they all possess devilish cunning."

"I will" promised Kenrick.

"Then I deem it an honor to have met you, young one. Consider yourself friend to the Blades." Through those final words Kenrick sped off into the night, stopping only to rest for a mere hour or less.


	8. A Lost Race

On the eve of the second day after leaving Bruma, Kenrick had already made far more distance than ever before. Twenty leagues lay behind him with many still to go. The vast distance, however, seemed trivial compared to his current mission. Not once did he second guess on the way. Through sheer determination Kenrick pressed on, lacking in necessary nourishment and rest. But through all of this his mind became sharper. Already he noticed things others might not, paying acute attention to the intimate detail of his surroundings, always on the alert for possible enemies – especially spies. Yet, without proper rest he drew weary far too often. He hadn't had a good night's rest since he left the Imperial City, and even then was constantly on the alert for another assassin. Occasionally he nodded off on the horse, allowing Fahlten to carry him on, but awoke when a sudden bump in the road was crossed or when Fahlten whinnied for his new master to awaken.

"I swear this horse seems to be mighty clever." Kenrick was tired, and even more so was his mind not entirely there. Seldom had he heard faint whispers, almost like the whiny of a horse but with a human voice buried in the midst. Oftentimes he had almost thought it to come from the horse itself.

"Preposterous, you can't talk" he said looking down to the horse. "You may be a clever beast, yet a beast you shall remain." He thought for a moment, "Why am I even talking to you, a dumb horse?" He merely meant dumb in terms of a non-verbal, non-humanoid, animal. However, the horse didn't exactly appreciate what he said, and suddenly stopped, flinging Kenrick head over heels toward the earth ahead.

"What in the name of Akatosh was that for?" Kenrick looked back to Fahlten, who obviously was glaring at him. Cocking his head to the side, Kenrick gazed at him, confused as to what he suddenly witnessed.

Fahlten strutted over to Kenrick, firmly placed a hoof on his iron-plated chest, and stared him straight in the eyes. "For a "human", you sure are mighty dumb yourself."

Amazed, Kenrick's jaw dropped, unsure of what to say. He looked around for a moment, almost expecting a mage to be around using a "Command Creature" spell with some sort of control voice trick. But when no mages around could be seen, nor anything else other than your everyday wildlife, Kenrick knew the horse had spoken.

"What are you?" He was still a little dazed from the fall, but not near enough to believe he had become a zany lunatic. _'Although my lack of sleep could be doing it'_ he tried to convince himself. Yet, the matter of the fact was that the horse HAD verbalized his opinion of the human.

"What am I" the horse calmly asked the boy.

"A… horse… that can speak." He was still in shock of this strange occurrence. And then he whispered, "Perhaps you are possessed." Fahlten pressed down harder on his chest. "Nope, nope, not possessed" Kenrick gasped for breath. Fahtlen let up a little, not physically trying to harm the boy. "Well, then what kind of horse are you then? You're certainly not of any normal breed of horse."

Fahlten sighed, or in his case lightly neighed. "Humans have no concept of history or magic, THAT is for certain. I am no ordinary horse, but of the magical breed who are slowly dying out because of YOUR race."

"What are you talking about… and can you please let me up!" Fahlten released Kenrick from under his hoof, and allowed him to stand.

"I'll explain to you on the way. But this is no small story. If you wish, I could try and condense it, or we can take our time and I'll do my best to explain everything." Kenrick obviously chose the latter, greatly intrigued by the mystical being.

"It all started back when the Ayleids ruled over Cyrodiil. They weren't as bad as everyone portrays them to be. Yet, they were a semi-barbaric race – caring for little else than power. The only other things they seemed to care about more were their horses. Dumb individuals they were back then, but with the help of magic my ancestors were created.

"Through dark arts, not known to me, the Ayleids enchanted only the choicest of stallions and mares. History dictated that they felt lonely amongst each other, with no other life forms, other than their own kind, able to speak to. Their conquest for power drove away all others, leaving them alone in the lands of Cyrodiil.

"A wise and well-respected enchantress, Fiera, suggested they tame their beasts and use certain dark arts to breed a smarter horse, a horse with the capabilities of intelligent thought and a vocabulary to match the Ayleid's. Many, many years had she studied and calculated the needed procedures. And many, many horses suffered as she continually miscalculated and killed off their precious beasts.

"Though one day she, by chance, happened to try an unused form of magic, one she had experimented with before a long time ago but had forgotten and never used until then. After many painstaking months of testing she broke through the barriers of dumb beast and intelligence, fusing the two together. Impressed with her work, all Ayleids began to transform their own horses into the now proud Mhlanc.

"Through many years of peace with Mhlanc, the Ayleids prospered. That is, until men invaded this land, killing off the Ayleids and capturing or murdering my kin. My kind would not easily fall to the relentlessness of the barbarians invading their land. Fortunately, most were able to escape, far away to a forgotten and hidden land, where they weren't heard from in many ages to come.

"This next part, actually, is more myth than history. Legends past down from generation to generation said that one noble steed, Fahlten, whom I was obviously named after, rose up to become a god among the Mhlanc. Some say he was just given magical powers by the Ayleids… others believe him to have been blessed by other supernatural beings. Still, with magic in tow he led my race to victory, driving back the invaders in their land.

"However, with great power he became corrupted, seeking revenge upon the barbarians and their kind. Forcefully he pressed the Mhlanc to the heart of Cyrodiil where they made their last stand. Most were killed, but few managed to surrender and become slaves to the humans before death was unleashed upon them. Still, the hidden land of Mhlanc is said to be there, and wild horses roam freely. But that is only a hopeless rumor spread among my kind in attempt to actually believe that one day we might return. Another rumor says that, when we die, our spirits are sent there."

"What an amazing story" said Kenrick.

Fahlten blared angrily, "It's not just a story; it's the history of my people. Remember that much if you can!"

Thinking over what to say to try and ease the anger within him, Kenrick apologized. "I'm sorry for not understanding the difference. I will do well to remember your words."

"Yes you would." All was silent amongst the two until early the next morning.

"Wake up, human. We're almost there. Chorrol lies less than an hour away. I know this much now, for I have seen it with my own eyes." Kenrick had actually been able to sleep comfortably that night. Fahlten strongly suggested it, seeing that Kenrick could take no more. "You are young and strong, I give you that much. Your determination is somewhat motivating." He smiled as best a horse can.

Kenrick chuckled. Seeing the humorous sight of the horse was quite entertaining. "Alright" he said standing up and then seated himself in the saddle. "Let's continue."


	9. Worthy of Trust

Chorrol. After much deliberation Kenrick and Fahlten finally arrived. Midday had come and the city lay before them, on the eastern edge of The Great Forest, and resting in The Colovian Highlands. The afternoon sun diffused through the canopy above, showering the ground beneath in patches of sunlight. Home to many forms of wildlife, the outskirts of Chorrol proved wonderful tracking grounds for hunters. Sightings of scattering deer came greatly in occurance. Yet as a forest, too were wolves in plenty. Frequent howls could be heard off in the distance, daring hunters to proceed further into the depths of the forest. But for now Kenrick's main mission was to find Jauffre. However, plans do get delayed.

Massive stone walls outlined the city, providing necessary protection from whatever dangers lay outside its barriers. Thankfully, though, that didn't warn off travelers. A busy city it seemed Chorrol was. Travelers, not as many as the Imperial City had, walked in and out of the city, purpose-driven to sell items… to make a profit. To the left of the city gates, a stable offered the service of providing care for horses. Kenrick looked to Fahlten and shrugged. Fahlten lightly whinnied at the inevitable; he would have to stay while Kenrick went inside to investigate Jauffre's location.

Regretably, Kenrick released his new friend over to the keeper of the stable for a mere ten septims. He gently rubbed the elegant silvery-white mane of the horse and said, "I'll be back soon. Do be good for the stableman, won't you?" Fahlten just stared at him, half-glaring and half-telling him to move along and continue with his mission.

The inner city looked exquisite. Gray stoned buildings with rich brown shingled roofs dotted the inside. To the right he saw the inner city wall guarding the castle, straight ahead a walkway led further into town where a grand oak tree stood tall, the proud symbol of Chorrol. And to his left a single row of buildings divided the road in two. The center lane went straight back to the chapel of Chorrol. In the left lane it led down to more housing and an open area where a beautiful garden grew with several large oaks permeating the land, and provided a peaceful resting area.

"Where should I begin" he wondered. In the center row of buildings he noticed several people walking in and out of, what appeared to be, the local tavern. The Oak and Crosier housed many individuals at once, allowing Kenrick to blend right in as part of the crowd.

Sitting down at the bar, Talasma, a Khajiit and the hostess of the Oak and Crosier, gladly greeted Kenrick. "The prey approaches, serrra" she purred. "What can Talasma do for you?"

"Have you seen monks either in or out of Chorrol? I'm looking for a priory around here." Kenrick waited for her response. A feeling of being watched drew his attention to a man in the back corner, bushy browed and abundantly round, stridently conversing with his friends. His name - Eugal Belette - a frequent point of interest brought up amongst the many other topics they indignantly discussed. An unwarranted glare occasionally shot towards Kenrick, and it made the boy feel unsure if he should have even come here in the first place. Something about that glazed over stare seemed off, possessed almost.

"Monks, you say?" Kenrick's gaze snapped back to the hostess, nodding in affirmation. "I have seen monks around here, but have not had the chance of meeting them. So, I have no idea of where they might be located. One might try asking Sabine Laul, chief armorrrer for the Fighter's Guild headquarters here in Chorrol. She has venturrred all over the countryside around Chorrol."

"Thank you very much, Khajiit. Your service is greatly appreciated." He tossed her ten septims and left in search for this Sabine Laul. Asking around town brought him to the Fighters Guild headquarters, north of the Old Oak.

Many people gathered around the Old Oak, the obvious common point for the citizens of Chorrol. He saw the sign of the Mages Guild, a blue sign with a small circle and an eye its center. Next to the Mages Guild the sign to the Fighters Guild hung handsomely, a red sign with two swords crossed over a shield.

Once inside, Modryn Oreyn, a Dark Elf, and second in command of the Fighters Guild, stomped up to Kenrick. His red eyes burned into the soul of the boy. Suspicious of the lad being there, Modryn bellowed, purposely going for intimidation, "What might you want, kid?"

"I'm looking for Sabine Laul. I was told I can find her here" Kenrick said, shrinking back from the unrelenting stare.

"One moment" Modryn rolled his eyes and strode off through a door leading down to the armory.

Upon returning he brought with him the woman called Sabine, a noticeably older woman, her face blacked from the smoke and soot of the fires she worked with, gave off a slightly burnt aroma. "Yea? You lookin' for me" she asked, gazing over the young and handsome figure. It was mildly obvious she had been drinking, the overwhelming stench of Cyrodillic Brandy clinging to her every breath, the occasional fumble in balance, and the pleasant smile plastered on her aged mug.

Kenrick stared at her a bit, not sure of exactly what to say. He felt a bit invaded by her constant stare, but swallowed back his discomfort to ask, "I'm looking for a priory around Chorrol. I was told you know the lay of the land fairly well."

"Aye, that I do. But what business is it of yer's?" She mildly glared at him, unsure of his intentions for the priory.

"I'm looking for a certain monk, and I have a very important item to give to him."

"Look, kid" she said bluntly, "I can't just give you the information you seek. I am under specific direction from the countess herself to keep the priory a secret. You obviously know of it, but I ain't giving you its location. If you want a different answer you'll have to get it approved by her highness, plain and simple."

Kenrick rather disliked the whole "go to this person" who then directs you to another person, and so on and so forth. But hopefully speaking with the ruler of Chorrol would clear up this ordeal. So, to the castle he went, only to be abruptly stopped by the steward, a tall green-skinned male… an Orc.

"I'm Orok gro-Ghoth," his voice brusk, a whistling sound rushing past his jutting teeth, "steward of Castle Chorrol. What business do you have here?"

"I must speak with the queen. It is urgent."

"Follow me" replied the Orc. Passing many different passages, eventually, brought Kenrick to the throne where a single old woman sat, the Countess of Chorrol, Arriana Valga.

"What's this, Orok? Who have you brought me today?" She seemed very nice, a pleasant voice, even smiled frequently. But something ailed her, and Kenrick could see she was in apparent distress.

"Says he has something urgent to speak to you about, ma'am." Orok backed up, leaving Kenrick in front of Arriana.

"Well, young man, what news do you bring?"

Kenrick stared off for a quick second, relaying in his mind how best he should phrase everything. "In being a countess, I suppose I can trust you with what I bring."

"What do you mean?" Arriana looked to him suspiciously. A small twitch in her left eye formed occasionally.

Kenrick looked around, unsure if he should _'But she's royalty, and has been rightly put on this throne. Not likely is she to be a spy!'_ He began, "My name, milady, is Kenrick. I have been looking for a man by the name of Jauffre. He lives in a priory somewhere near Chorrol, however, I do not know where exactly. I have a very important item to give to him. This assignment is of the upmost importance and I have little time to waste. The only other person I have asked about this place is Sabine Laul, who in turn directed me to you."

"Ah yes, Sabine. I do love that girl. She's quite cheery for an old armoring widow I'd say." She looked back to Kenrick and proceeded to answer him. "Kenrick, my dear, I would love to give you the location of their whereabouts. I, however, have a problem in need of solving." Kenrick listened. As he expected the information wouldn't come for free.

"Something very precious to me has recently been stolen, last night in fact. And I believe it to be someone currently residing here in the castle. Prime suspects," and at this part she called him closer to speak in a far subtler tone, "Bittneld the Curse-Bringer, Captain of Chorrol's guards. He recently had an incident in a local tavern and I had to put him on probation from there. There might be some resentment there, enough for him to take it.

"Laythe Waverick, my herald, could have done it, but I do not believe he would. Although he and I had a dispute as to where the item should be placed, but in the end, of course I made the final decision. It would seem rather silly of him if he were to have removed it and placed it elsewhere… but you never know."

"Orgnolf Hairy-Legs, the castle's porter. He drinks fairly often and has recently been put on probation; due to some complications in the castle… particularly to the finding of stolen beer and mead in his room. If he's stolen once he could steal again.

"My steward, but unlikely, has spent many an hour in the room where the item lay, in the dining room, for no apparent reason.

"And last Chanel, the court mage. Oftentimes I have caught her blankly staring into space while gazing upon it.

"The item, you ask? A painting made of my recently deceased husband. Nevermore can I gaze upon the painting and remember his handsome face." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You must get the painting back, you see, for it does mean much to me." She finished and handed him the key to the castle, instructing him on exactly where to go and NOT to go – like her room and whatnot. She also mentioned that all, except Orok who stood in the very room, were sentenced to their quarters until the investigation was over.

"I promise, milady, I will find the thief responsible for this treachery." In being a thief himself, he had only to retrace what he would have done. However, he quickly realized that the person who achieved the theft, one of the five suspects most likely, wouldn't be a thief in the first place – especially if they held such a high place in the castle.

'_But where to begin'_ he thought to himself. _'I start off with the interrogations of the five suspects. And I'll start off with Orok, since he's closest.'_

"Orok," he asked, "Where were you last night when the crime was committed?"

"I was making my usual rounds, inspecting every lock as I do at night. I had a slight mishap with Orgnalf though, caught him drinking again, and he wandered off into the dining room where the painting was. I heard him curse it, and then heard him head through the opposite door heading into his room on the other side of the castle. Although, I don't think it to be him, he may have been drunk but I have never known him to do things like this – with the exception of the beer and mead. What can I say, the man loves to drink. After that I went to my room for the rest of the night."

"Thank you for your time" Kenrick didn't sense any lie in him, but remained leery of Orgnalf. _'I think it's time to visit Orgnalf.'_ And after being guided by guards stationed sporadically throughout the castle, he came to the Nord's room.

"Orgnalf?" The Nord sat in a chair turned to the wall.

"Yeah" he said glumly.

"I have a few questions to ask you about the theft last night? Would you care to answer them?"

"No, go ahead. It ain't like I'm going anywhere anyway. Ask away, investigator" he said mockingly.

Kenrick decided to ignore the statement and continued. "Where were you last night when all of this happened."

He gave roughly the same story as Orok, but mentioned Bittneld and Laythe. "I saw 'em both in the dining room as I went through. They were lookin' at the painting, and I cursed 'em for staring at the countess' husband for so long. So, I cursed at 'em again and went through the door and off into my room on the other side of the castle."

"That is all I need from you, thanks." _'If his story matches that of Bittneld and Laythe, then I'll know he's telling the truth.'_

Bittneld was confined to his room outside the castle and in the guard's garrison. Slowly, the dark-haired Nord paced back and forth, awaiting instruction. "Bittneld, I presume?" Kenrick walked in.

"You must be the investigator. I've been told you'd be coming to question me."

"That is true. Would you care to join me as I ask a few questions?"

"Sure, why not." He sat on the edge of his bed, giving Kenrick a chair in the corner.

"Where were you on the night this all happened, Bittneld?"

"Look, I really love my job. Let me start of by saying that. I love to cruise through the town, looking for possible thugs and ne'er-do-wells. Though, last night was a stormy night, and I couldn't patrol the town like I normally do. I was forced to stay inside, due to the torre… torna… uh… the, the bad rains. So, instead I patrolled the inside of the castle. At least I could patrol here, where the rain wouldn't get me. I can't stand getting wet. By the end of the night, I saw Chanel heading out of the dining room and upstairs. She then went into the West Tower. But I don't know for what. I then went into the dining room with Laythe to pay respects to our honored Count Valga. We usually do that every night. After that we went our separate ways and off to bed."

"So, you're not still angry with the countess for prohibiting you from the tavern?"

"Nah, I deserved what happened. I caused some ruckus in there, and got a little too rowdy. I deserved it. But, I can't wait to go back. Talasma has the best beer I've ever tasted!"

"Thank you for your time, Bittneld. You've been a great help." And after interrogating Laythe, from which he got nearly the same answer as Bittneld, except with him doing his usual task of talking with the countess for possible treaties with other nations and writing new decrees. That left Chanel, the last and apparently most prime suspect.

She was up in her room, brushing her hair and humming a lovely tune. _Knock Knock_ went the rap of Kenrick's knuckles against the wooden door, interrupting her mid-tune.

"Come in" she gracefully replied.

"Chanel" he inquired, her ebony skin glistened in the soft pulsating light of the candle fire.

"Investigator" she inquired back.

"Would you mind answering a few questions?" She calmly put down her brush and motioned for him to begin. "Where were on the eve of last night? And what were you doing?"

"Every night," her pleasant voice was even beautifully sound, "in being a mage, I go out into the courtyard to study the stars. Every single light up there has a purpose, you know. I love to gaze at them and study their behaviors. Every now and then I'm able to see a shooting star. Those bring me happiness, far more than any other thing in the world. After that I went to my room and slept for the remainder of the night."

Already her story didn't match that of Bittneld's, so she must've been lying. Either that, or Bittneld was trying to pin the crime on her. _'He doesn't seem bright enough for something like that though'_ Kenrick thought. But the fact of her studying the stars during the rain seemed mighty peculiar, and quite impossible.

"Is there anything more you need from me?"

"No, you've been a great help." After all of the interrogating was done, he decided to head down to the scene of the crime. As he stood there, thinking of how to prove Chanel caused the crime, he noticed a small globular substance dried to the floor. It was paint. "How odd" he said. He looked back to the long dining table, and beneath the corner he saw footprints, too small for any of the males he currently met… yet small enough to possibly be Chanel's. He remembered how Bittneld said she had gone into the West Tower instead of her room. "Perhaps" he said.

The West Tower didn't seem to be much, a very small circular room. Several boxes stacked on the right were the only thing in there. Kenrick decided to check through the boxes, removing each one from the pile to check the others beneath them. With the removal of the last box he saw a small opening in the floor – a trap door. "Aha! It's all coming together." And as he descended the ladder leading down, he noticed a large picture, half finished, on an artist's stand. He went over to inspect it, and noted that a corner had begun to lift. Behind it another canvas lay, and something was on it. For directly behind that painting was the missing portrait of Count Valga. I only need one more thing to prove Chanel did this, she must store paint in her room somewhere.

After ascending the ladder he barged into the room, looked in a small cupboard she had off to the side of her room, and removed an unclean paintbrush, and a painter's disc, fresh with paint.

"Hey!" she said to his sudden acts. "What are you…" she was cut off mid-sentence as Kenrick held up the painters items.

"You are being accused of the theft of the current Countess Arriana Valga's portrait. Do you have any last words?" He almost scared himself. He sounded just like those guards who arrested him back before all of this even happened.

Chanel sighed. She sorrowfully looked up to him and began to cry. "Yes, it was I. I was in love with him. I painted the picture after… after he and I…" she stopped herself from saying anything further of that subject. "The Countess grew a particular fondness for the portrait, and ordered me to give it to her. Obviously I didn't want to argue. But when he died, I saw her spending many, many hours with it each day. I understand, for I loved him too. I just became jealous, and wanted it back." She looked to the floor, knowing full well what was to become of her.

"Chanel, I'm sorry for the way things turned out now. But I can't let you get away with this. I have too much at risk I don't. You must understand?" She slowly nodded her head. "Then you know what I must do." She nodded again. "Stay here, then. I don't think you'll want to face the Countess in such a state."

Slowly, but surely, he made his way downstairs to inform Arriana of the crime. "You'll find the portrait in a secret compartment heading down from the West Tower. And," he was almost afraid to ask, "did you know of this adulterous relationship between your husband and Chanel."

Arriana sighed, bringing tears to her eyes. "Yes, I knew. It took me many years to forgive him. But eventually I did. Although, not in time. He passed away before the resentment had fully settled. So, I spent all my time with the portrait, trying to reconcile my own wrong."

She looked to the floor for a moment, and then back to Kenrick. "Now, as for your reward." She rubbed her eyes and clapped her hands, ordering her steward to bring over a bag of five hundred septims worth in coins. This should more than do. And as for your questions, you have my blessing to know the location of the priory. We have kept their priory a secret, except from traveling blades. Although you have shown me to be loyal and honest." She quickly wrote something down, and ended it with her signet. "Take this to Sabine. She should be glad enough to reveal its location to you now."

Bowing low, Kenrick thanked her dearly. _'Finally, the location of the priory and Jauffre. The only one who can make some sort of sense with everything that has been going on.'_

After discussing everything over with Sabine, she told him the exact where about of the priory and wished him luck. Kenrick shook her hand and went to retrieve Fahlten who asked him how his day had gone. And after explaining everything to him, they left for the location of the priory… the hidden sanctuary for Blades.


	10. No Where to Be Found?

"We are exactly where she said." Fahtlen seemed uneasy. Something wasn't right. Either it was his innate horse sense feeling as if something bad was about to happen, or he was just paranoid from not finding the priory where Sabine had said. "Are you sure you heard her correctly?"

"Yes, yes. She said to turn directly east from the oak tree and head straight on until we reached the priory." He dismounted Fahlten, wanting to walk alongside him. He walked a few feet ahead of Fahlten, leading him on. "Perhaps we just haven't gone far eno…" Kenrick fell flat on his arse. Fahlten suddenly stopped. The hysterical laughing of the horse to anyone else would have been hilarious, but at the moment Kenrick found it irritating.

"Oww!" he howled. "What in the wor…" He cocked his head to the side while standing up. Outstretching his hand, he tried feeling for whatever it was he had walked into.

Suddenly his hand made contact with the "object". An invisible wall blocked their way, and as he touched it, gentle ripples strode off from his fingers, like that of dropping a pebble into a lake. If the sun sank any lower into the sky, they would have never even been able to "see" it. Though, with on look they could tell it was obviously supernatural. No being in all of Tamriel could possibly create such a powerful barrier… could they? No way could it have been manmade, nor likely was it of Mer origin.

Walking with one hand to the wall, and another in front of him, he little by little inched his way around the perimeter of the object. "You don't think this could be it... do you?"

"I don't know, Kenrick." Fahlten looked out to the forest around them. "But I've got this feeling… like we're being watched with eyes unseen," he went to a whisper, "listened to by unwarranted ears."

"Preposterous!" Kenrick snapped. "You think something, or someone, is watching us?"

"Well, this wall certainly doesn't make me feel any better."

"Quit your belly-aching, this wall is bound to be the priory… if I can ever find an entrance that is." He had been tracking the length of the wall for about ten minutes. Though, no sign showed that whatever it was had any sort of gate, or grating, or any permeable entrance for that matter.

"Maybe there's a secret word to open it, whatever it is." Fahlten neighed, nudged him, and repeated it again.

"Like what? Friend of the Blades. Or Long live the Emperor. Or how about this, Close Shut the Jaws of Oblivion." He tried his best to imitate the emperor, which actually wasn't a bad attempt, and then chuckled for a moment. "You see, there's nothing here." However, he looked to the wall, and it already looked a clearear. Stone walls surrounded the priory.

"What did I tell you?" Fahlten smirked and walked up next to him.

Kenrick stood up to the wall, and looked hard at it, already he could see something swiftly moving towards his position. A faint sound came through the wall, like the barking of hounds… vicious hounds – hounds with large incisors – hounds with strongly averted appetites for human flesh, and horse flesh too!

The wall looking more and more whole started to become clearer at each passing moment. And in not too long a time, they stood before a large metal gate. Two vicious canines guarded the entrance, directly inside the gate. Their teeth bared, and menacing growls threatened the unfamiliar scents. Good thing for them though the gate was shut tight. They looked from left to right, to try and see what the wall consisted of. It appeared to them, at first, to be made entirely of leaves, but as the magic of the wall wore off more, they discovered that it was made to become "invisible" by changing to whatever its background looked like. Always it changed as the constant movement of one's head went to any direction. They tried to see if it worked as such – and it did!

"Wow" Kenrick gasped. "This wall is amazing. Fahlten, do you see this?"

"Oh yes, I see it alright. A wall covered in magical properties to fool prying eyes. A most clever invention – or a most divine invention. Either way works for me."

They couldn't do much with the dogs just sitting there, waiting to attack them... the intruders. But with just their luck a way would be provided. For a balding man walked outside and asked, "Who goes there? Be you friend or foe? Be you friend of the emperor" he said menacingly, "or ally to the assassin's?"

For sure this was the place, Kenrick said, "We are friend to the emperor. Try and slay us now if you be enemy against our king."

"Bold choice of words, young man" his tone changed to a subtler form, almost neutral as if.

"Is this the priory with whom Jauffre resides in?" Kenrick furiously glared at the man.

"Aye, but what business do you have here. You don't look like a friend of his; for he is sure he has never seen the likes of you." His words trailed off as he inspected the stallion standing next to the boy. "But you," he said, "are familiar. Speak now, beast of Mhlanc."

"It is good to see you, old friend." The two smiled at each other. Kenrick just stood there, confused as to what was going on.

"You know this man? He spoke against the emperor!" Kenrick flew his arms in the air in exasperation with the horse.

Fahlten looked to him, "Only to fool intruders, of course. You did a brave thing then, standing for what you believe in. Perhaps a little naïve, but very brave indeed." Kenrick wasn't sure whether or not to take it as a compliment.

"Come in, friends of the emperor. We have much to discuss." The balding man led them further inside.

A precious stable was off to the left, where Fahlten slept for the time being and was treated as if royalty. He received nothing less than the finest hay and the choicest oats by the stable master, Eronor, a kind and gentle Dunmer with nothing more in mind then tending to his work. "Join him, Kenrick" Fahtlen said with a mouth full of oats. "He has much wisdom. You would be wise to heed his council." Kenrick nodded.

The inner priory was decorated with outfitting for travelers and various supplies – if they could find the place that is – and offered much to anyone seeking wisdom within. Bookcases higher than any Kenrick had seen lined the eastern wall. Past history of the empire, anonymous books on the lore of other cultures, even various books on how to fight and use magic. It all interested Kenrick. However, he would have to wait for a later time when he could finally relax from traveling. Indeed, now was not the time for idle thought. Kenrick had a mission, and nearly had it completed. All he needed to do was talk to Jauffre. The balding man sat down at his desk up the stairs and to the right. At the top of the stairs and to the left were many beds for weary travelers.

"Join me," said the man offering a chair sitting before the desk, "You appear to have urgent news."

Kenrick nodded. "I bring word of the emperor, and…"

"You know something of the emperor's death" he was cut off sharply.

"Well, yes" replied Kenrick. "I was there when he died."

The bald man glared at him. "You had better explain yourself, young man."

"I would, if you'd allow me to." Kenrick made sure he had permission to speak further without being ridiculed. "The emperor sent me to find Jauffre. Do you know where he is?"

"Why yes. He is I and I am he. Jauffre, servant of the Nine Divines." Jauffre still continued to glare, but lessened the intensity of it. "What did the emperor need me for. Obviously there is some sort of special message he had for me… make out with it!"

Kenrick pulled from his pack the Amulet of Kings. "He sent this with me to give to you."

"The Amulet of Kings" gasped Jauffre. "Uriel sent you with this to find me? Why you?"

"I don't know why he chose me. The death of Uriel has brought me deeper into this dilemma ever since he led me out of the prisons."

"Ah, so you're the escapee I've heard talk about."

Kenrick nodded. "He told me to bring it to you, so that the only heir left to the throne could relight the Dragon Fires – whatever they are. Does this have anything to do with Oblivion? Is it true that those Dragon Fire things keep the hell gates at bay?"

"What do you mean?" Jauffre was concerned with the news.

"Well, when Uriel died, he told me to close shut the Jaws of Oblivion."

"This is a mystery to me, Kenrick. Only the strange fate of Uriel could have brought you here to me asking these questions. Apparently Uriel perceived some threat from the plains of Oblivion. His words must refer to them and the demonic ruler, Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Destruction."

"He mentioned that to me as well. The part about some Prince of Destruction."

"Then it is as I feared. You must hurry to Kvatch, Martin is Uriel's lost son and he lives there as a priest. If the enemy learns of him, all hope will be lost."

"Wait, Kvatch you say?" A look of horror streaked across Kenrick face. His stomach churned many times before he finally regained himself.

"Yes. Why? What has happened?" Jauffre sternly gazed into Kenrick's eyes.

"On my way to Bruma, to inquire your location from the blades at Cloud Ruler, I heard a guard from Kvatch say that his city was under attack by the forces of Oblivion."

"How long ago was this" Jauffre demanded.

"From now it has nearly been a week."

"May the gods have mercy on Kvatch," Jauffre rubbed his forhead. "You must get to Kvatch, dear child. Martin is the only heir left to the throne. You must save him. Though traveling at night will not do you any good, especially in this immense forest where you are bound to be lost in no time. Rest here for the night, but it is urgent that in the morning you ride as quickly as Fahtlen shall carry."

Kenrick sighed and went to the bedding adjacent Jauffre's quarters. For the next day started a new and completely terrifying experience for him. In the days to come, Kenrick would face his most fearsome adventure yet – ridding Cyrodiil of the Oblivion invasion!

* * *

On the fourth morning the moons faded behind the horizon and the rising sun showered the country side of Cyrodiil in warmth, although, Kenrick felt no such comfort. Only demise seemed to filter his mind, scattering any thought of relief he tried to grasp hold of. Kenrick knew after the death of his father that things would be different. But now he was on a quest to rescue another life form. How could he possibly help any other being when he failed in protecting even his own family?

Trying to soothe the unrelenting images of death, Kenrick focused on the wind rushing past his face as Falhten quickly sped onward. Breathing in the sweet aromas carried on the summer-filled air, Kenrick found a peace in the serenities of nature. He wished freedom had come to him so naturally like the wild deer scattering as Fahlten pressed on. But Kenrick seemed to be trapped within uncontrollable circumstances, unable to escape his "destiny". He remembered back to when the Emperor had given him the Amulet – it seemed forever ago. And the Emperor's words, "Close shut the Jaws of Oblivion".

For many hours Kenrick pondered the recent circumstances befallen upon him. _'How can I be the one to defeat this Oblivion threat? I'm no one of consequence. But the Emperor gave me orders… in the last moment of his life. I must obey his dying wish.'_

Falthen suddenly halted and looked back to Kenrick.

"Why have we stopped?" inquired Kenrick.

"Look forward, young master" Fahlten replied, pointing west.

"How far have you taken us?" gasped Kenrick, seeing the mighty city of Skingrad. Great stone walls surrounded the grand municipality. Aged gray buildings lined the narrow network of streets winding through and around the area. Spanning several hundred feet, a wide ditch of sorts ran perpendicular, from east to west, with two bridges connecting both halves of Skingrad to one. In the south east the prodigious castle sat on a high rise with a long bridge connecting it to the mainland. Standing tall, the castle protectively overlooked the city in whole, providing comfort to all onlookers – civilians and travelers alike.

"Not I, but the gods'" Fahlten said joyously. "They must be on our side, for we have made a rushed one week journey in less than four days." The exhausted horse trotted now, regaining much of his needed energy.

As daylight waned into dusk, Kenrick and Fahlten settled in Skingrad for the night, praying all the while for Kvatch to still be standing by the time they arrived. Only one more day's travel stood between them and the city in peril.


	11. Gruesome Nightmare Comes True

_A flaming city sat helplessly. The blood-red sky overhead stretched for a mile in all directions, streaked with tainted bluish lightning that wreaked havoc upon the surrounding countryside. Hell itself seemed to spew hatred on this one city. All of its malice was channeled into a single monotonous goal – bring death to all._

_In front of the city a giant burning portal sat devilishly, and a great red beam burst from its top, flooding the heavens. Demons of all sorts poured out of the hellish gate, ripping through the flesh of innocent beings. Life-blood flowed like a river from the city's gate and into Oblivion, never again seen._

_People who surrendered their will were careless dragged into the gate by fiends. Others who had not so easily given up were cut down, providing gruesome totems for the forces of darkness. Heads on pikes pervaded the area around the gate. And blood freely flowed from the decapitated bodies piled off to one side of the portal. The stench of a thousand rotting corpses hung about in the air… a dismal mark for all to know that the land was lost. Though, other demons found better uses for the bodies than tossing them aside._

_As beasts of darkness, they craved blood. With each new corpse the beasts praised their hellish leader. And so they feasted upon the flesh of mortals, tearing through the lifeless skin and muscle. Fang-like incisors rendered the bodies of loved ones, mind from flesh._

_Their leader approved. A single man, a Dunmer in origin, turned around to gaze at the remaining land. His eyes profusely burned with the hatred for life. With a swift motion of his hand he sent forth legions or hellions to further wreak havoc upon the life of Cyrodiil and suffocate all living things. Under his rule, life would cease to exist._

* * *

Kenrick woke with a start, for the dream seemed horrifically real. Light headed and breathing heavily, he sat up trying to regain his consciousness. _'It was only a dream…'_

Sweat beaded across Kenrick's brow and down into his eyes, stinging them terribly. Thankfully, a basin of water was set in the room for guests. With it Kenrick washed the stinging sensation from his eyes. The chilled water was pleasant to his skin as well. Quickly, he reached for a towel beneath the basin's stand. But a single beam of light shone upon the towels, momentarily blinding Kenrick as he recoiled from the intensity of the beam.

From between a gap in the curtains, Kenrick could see the sun rise to greet the new day. And with one quick jerk he released the light to filter the room entirely, warming him to the core. A sigh of relief escaped his lip as he thanked whatever gods watched over him for keeping the assassin's at bay.

'_You're welcome, child of the light'_ a soothing voice rang as clear as church bells in the recesses of his mind.

Kenrick looked around, sure he heard something. Absent mindedly he focused back on washing his face and hands. The grime of his past travels was caked on his skin. But now was not the time to worry about such things. Kenrick remembered his mission at hand: save Martin, the only heir to the throne of Cyrodiil. Hastily, Kenrick gathered his belongings and raced out of town to his faithful friend Fahlten, who in turn was mighty grateful for his rider's return.

"You know," Fahlten began as they were out of earshot from the stables, "I'd much rather have come into the city and slept in a human bed than the pile of muck they call beds here. No sense of comfort do these Skingrad farmers have." With a puff and an aching neigh, Fahlten shook his mane in disapproval. Kenrick could do little else but laugh.

"Well, Fahlten…" he began joyously but then remembered his dream the night before. "Things will be different after we rescue Martin, that's for sure."

* * *

The sun now began to fade and the two moons, Secunda and Masser, hazily rose in the sky. An ill-omen this proved for the sun faded with an array of crimson. Blood was being spilt in the land nearby.

Fear began to grip at Kenrick. The dream he had, its dreadful images, repeatedly flashed back into his mind. The sight of rotting flesh drew on the tenderness of his stomach. Demonic beings ripping apart living people… their limbs strewn about on the hilltop in front of the vile gate.

Suddenly, Fahlten jolted Kenrick from his stance, feeling the young man's anguish. "Look to the heaven's Kenrick."

But what Kenrick saw burned an image into the back of his mind forever. What he saw, for the first time, was the reality of his nightmare coming true… the bloody sky created from an Oblivion gate – the bloody sky of hell itself.


	12. Ruined City in Peril

"Help, help… you must come quick!" A distraught Altmer scurried up to Kenrick, arms flailing about as he ran, his horror filled voice shrieked.

"What is that?" Kenrick gazed up to the sky, knowing precisely what it was. But sometimes you just have to have your worst fears confirmed, both for your sake and for others.

"The gates of Oblivion wreak havoc on the city. All is lost!" The High Elf continued to run about, seeking help from someone - anyone.

"I thought the legionnaires of the Imperial City were to come and help fight off the hordes." Kenrick gazed down to Fahlten who just shrugged.

"Well, no matter even if they have. The city is under attack and we must get up there to help in whatever way we can." Fahlten sped off up the slope.

A small encampment lay atop a terraced land carved out at the foot of a massive winding hill. Many people sat on makeshift benches and set up tents along the sides of the terrace, defeat scorched across their faces.

"Excuse me" Kenrick said to an Orc Female having difficulty setting up her tent.

"Wud'dya want?" She snapped her head around to look at the boy, glaring furiously at him for interrupting her work.

"Have you seen a Priest that goes by the name of Martin?" He peered as kindly as possibly into her sorrow filled eyes.

"He is still in the city" she said sadly. "Martin helped many of us escape that dreaded night. He went back into the city to help more escape, but I haven't seen him since."

Kenrick glanced up to the burning city, concerned for the safety of the last heir. After a moment or so he thanked the Orc and strode ahead. With his sword drawn and a retribution for Kvatch building in his heart, Kenrick rode on to greet the demons with the same kindness they had been showing the denizens of Cyrodiil – but with the hellfire of justice on his side.

Fifteen or so guards, for one occasionally fell to the forces of darkness, fought furiously against the demonic progeny. Patriotic hearts gave them the needed strength to combat the hellions who recklessly wrought havoc upon their homelands, despite the vast numbers they faced. Though, the spawn of evil showed no mercy.

In spite of the fact that the only enemies around were mere scamps, the little brutes fought ferociously, occasionally hurling fire spells at their enemies. Kenrick noticed that a couple of the guards were beginning to become overwhelmed by the vast number of scamps. Dutifully he raced on Fahtlen to aid the guards.

As he leapt from Fahtlen's back Kenrick managed to sever a scamps head with a powerful outward swing of his sword, sending a fountain of blood spurting about. A second scamp fell to his blade as he quickly spun around to greet the enemy behind. Four more hell-spawn perished from the combined might of the two guards and Kenrick. They looked to him thankfully and went back to combat the remaining enemy.

In total the ten remaining guards, with the aid of Kenrick, felled thirty more scamps, ending the wave of enemies pouring out of the gate.

A tall and aged man, garbed in the uniform of Kvatch, ambled up to Kenrick. "Thank you for the support lad, but this is no place for children. Return to the camp with the other citizens" he said with a thankful, yet disapproving, gaze in his eye.

Kenrick shook his head, rejecting the order. "I have a mission from the Emperor himself."

"The Emperor? What could he have possibly given you? And quite frankly how!? He's dead" the man growled.

Sorrow filled Kenrick's heart upon the remembrance. "I know…" he calmly replied. "Before he died, the Emperor charged me to find a Priest named Martin. Do you know of him?"

The man nodded in affirmation, ashamed of the circumstances befallen that day. "I do" he said, grief showed in his voice. "He helped us lead many of the people out of the city gate. But as he went back in to help more... the door sealed shut as this massive gate rose from its hellish grave."

"So, how do we get in to rescue the others" Kenrick asked in exasperation.

"The only way in would be to close shut this portal to Oblivion. There must be a way to shut the gate for men garbed in red easily erected it."

"Then I'm going in." Kenrick started off towards the gate but was held back by a firm grip.

"Wait" the man said. "How old are you?"

Kenrick grinned, "Seventeen and one half."

The man nodded in approval and thanked him, saying his name was Savlian Matius. Kenrick replied with his name, and with a friendly smile sped off into the portal. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline of combat that motivated him. But to Kenrick courage and love for land and country pervaded his heart. From that day forward, Kenrick was recognized as a man by the people of Cyrodiil.


	13. Ending Hell at Kvatch

The smell of volcanic ash and soot suffused in the air, a burnt odor clinging to everything, indeed giving the surroundings of jagged rocks and crimson skies the extra indication that you were, for a fact, in hell. Scorched marks marred the serrated terrain where the tainted lightning above had struck. Red thorny stems jutted out near large boulders, living plants with only the will to sting passersby. Other, smaller plants gave the appearance of coagulated blood dried onto wheat stalks.

Truly this place was the home of demons. Every so often along the path that Kenrick walked crude pikes skewered the decapitated remains of once living beings. Too, rotting flesh was limply draped across the path.

Uneasy at first glance, Kenrick dry heaved at the horrific sights. Nothing would come out. This made sense since he had not had a decent meal in several days. But even this great evil could not bend his will to press on. Through nothing-less than sheer determination Kenrick continued.

Ahead of him a broken bridge stretched across a lake of lava towards a massive spiked tower, ominously awaiting its next victim. _'There must be something in there that could unravel this dimension'_ Kenrick thought to himself. Strewn across the bridge were the scattered remains of beings, indignantly gnawed on by several scamps. To his left he witnessed a soldier single-handedly fending off several more Daedra.

His powerful arms swung madly about as his steel sword cleaved each demon in two. Though, Kenrick noticed his movements straining. With a wild cry of fury the vengeful lad rushed upon his foes to help the man. Together they disposed of all the threats.

The man's bloodstained raiment revealed his wounds. Blood leaked from several punctures to his shoulders and ribs. And with a weary smile he gazed upon his rescuer, glad to see a friendly face.

"I thought I was the last one in this hell-hole" he scoffed.

"It's alright" said Kenrick, supporting the man as he fell forward to one knee, evidently exhausted. "Go, return through the gate to Savlian and receive healing from the remaining priests down in the encampment below.

The man's eyes widened in relief to hear he was not the last survivor of Kvatch. "Thank you, dear lad."

* * *

For over an hour Kenrick explored the demented territory, trying to discover a way into the keep. And for over an hour Kenrick battled many more scamps hindering his progress. At least they were in waves of no more than two.

Finally, as he encroached upon the second hour of being in Oblivion, he found the massive front doors. Two pikes with Imperial heads stood at the front of a massive stair leading up to the doors. Kenrick gasped at the cruelty of such beings.

All of the sudden, Kenrick heard a foul voice behind him – a gruff voice polluted with hatred. "You should not be here mortal!"

Kenrick slowly turned around to greet, for his first time, a Dremora – demons spoke of in legends to be the foul servants of Mehrunes Dagon – the Daedric Prince of Destruction. Grayed over skin covered his body, with fiery tattoos spread from naval to nose. Crude scarlet armor covered his legs, feet and hands, and a twisted bow firmly gripped his left clutch. A large demonic sword hung at his side, panging to taste the flesh of its enemies.

As the Dremora notched an uncouthly barbed arrow, Kenrick rushed him. With a battle cry so fierce the Dremora halted, examing the daring human. But with a wicked smile, fangs exposed, he unleashed the bolt for his target. Miraculously, Kenrick dodged the arrow and unleashed a flurry of blows upon his enemy, eventually killing the brute with a final stab to the heart. Blood flecked lips gargled an inaudible curse as Kenrick yanked his sword from its chest, and firmly kicked it to the ground.

The inside of the massive tower was dark and threatening. There was plenty of light provided by a raging inferno spiraling upwards to the very top of the tower – a distance so high Kenrick couldn't even see where the fire stopped – but the walls were dark and menacing. Blood stains lined every bit of the tower. The fire, itself, was much like the one he witnessed pouring out from the gate prior to his entering the realm. However, on the bottom floor of the tower, Kenrick was not alone.

Two more Dremora noticed the boy enter and screamed curses. While one notched an arrow the other rushed Kenrick with his dreadful Daedric sword. Kenrick parried the first attack thrust at him, but fell short for the second, meriting him a large gash stretching across his left shoulder. With another thrust of the demon's blade, Kenrick earned a pierced side. With his right hand Kenrick gripped tight his sword and thrust it through the demon's face. Ignoring the pain, Kenrick gripped his sword with both hands and rushed the second being, dodging two arrows, and catching the Dremora in the stomach. With one powerful jerk, Kenrick disemboweled the second enemy, spilling blackened guts across the floor.

Kenrick writhed in pain. Hastily he searched the Dremora's corpse for a Magicka or Healing potion. Neither of which he found. His bloody hands fumbled over his shoulder and side, trying to prevent any more blood from escaping. In a second attempt, he searched the other's body as well, but found nothing. Defeated for the moment, Kenrick leaned against the wall, steadily growing weaker as more and more blood spilled out over of him.

"Is this… the end" he yelled in short breaths. Would his adventure end here in the depths of hell? Would Kenrick never again feel the breeze on his face? Or experience soft touch of nature's embrace?

Although, a comforting voice rang out in the depths of his mind. _'The ring.'_ Quickly he reached for it in his pocket, easily slipping it over a bloodied finger. And in no time he felt his Magicka return. It took several attempts, but the weak healing spell managed to seal up the wounds and Kenrick too felt his strength returning. To conserve the ring's energy he thought it best to use it only in emergencies as such. And with a renewed vigor, the energized warrior continued.

* * *

For several more hours Kenrick traversed the tower, progressively finding his way upward through the many corridors and leaving a trail of dead enemies in his wake. But as he came to one door while out in the center chamber, he opened it, seeing it led across a narrow bridge to another smaller tower on the outskirts of the main building.

A man was being carried against his will by another of Dagon's servants, disappearing into the door opposite the one Kenrick stood in. Worried for the safety of the man, he hastily followed the two into the opposing tower. The demon carelessly threw the man into a large cage and bound it with a lock to which he held the key.

Silently, Kenrick snuck up behind the being. With his sword unsheated, Kenrick then plunged the blade through the back of his adversary. The tip of the sword protruded through the demon's chest, blood trickled off the tip. In a hurry, Kenrick found the key and freed the prisoner.

The man exclaimed, "You must hurry!"

"Take a moment and recover your strength" Kenrick suggested, using what Magicka was left in him to heal the wounds the man received.

"No, there's no time. You must hurry. At the peak of the winding stairs is a large round room. In it the demons talk about a glowing stone – a Sigel Stone they call it. It is the key holding the portal open. You must remove that stone from its nest!"

"Thank you" replied Kenrick, a renewed hope for closing the gates burned abundantly in his spirit. "Return to the bottom of the tower and then back through the Oblivion gate. Savlian and his men guard the outside from our enemies."

"Gods' bless you! You are truly a Hero of Kvatch."

Kenrick liked the sound of that. For moment he pondered his destiny, remembering back to when the Emperor told him that their mission was the same. Kenrick now understood his purpose. He was to help relieve Cyrodiil of the invasion.

* * *

High atop the tower, Kenrick finally made his way into the large room spoken of by the man. A large spiked pit sat centered in the room, the raging beam of fire bursting through and up into a deep black stone. _'That must be the Sigel Stone'_ thought Kenrick. However, the room was patrolled by several scamps and two Dremora sorcerers.

Covertly, Kenrick slipped on the ring, sneaking up behind each scamp, assassinating them in silence. But just as Kenrick was about slay the first sorcerer, the ring's Magicka faded, leaving him fully visible to the two enemies. In unison they cursed him, hurling fire, thunder, and ice spells in his direction.

Quickly he had to formulate a plan. Suddenly he remembered an old trick taught to him by his father. Though, hopefully the Dremora were as dumb as goblins.

--

_The day was early, well before sunrise, and the two hunters scattered in opposite directions. Two goblin archers threatened their livestock and their lives were to be forfeit. Caen chirped to Kenrick, the indication to move in._

_Steathily, Kenrick moved in between the inattentive beasts, their backs turned to him. The only thing swarming through his mind was 'Just dodge out of the way when they fire.'_

_Caen chirped again, a different sound, calling for Kenrick to stand. And with that Kenrick yelled for the two beasts._

_Angrily they turned about, facing him, a joyous smirk plastered on his face. As soon as the two released their arrows, Kenrick dodged out of the way, the imbecilic monsters slaying each other in the process._

--

"To whatever gods are listening," Kenrick prayed, "give me the speed and timing to bring down mine enemies." With a steady breath, Kenrick closed his eyes, reaffirming his prayer. _Thud, thud, thud_ sounded the blasts of magic as they assaulted his cover. _Thud, thud, thud_ Kenrick counted, a beat of every three seconds gave him a little window to effectively dodge the blasts and run between his enemies.

With one last breath, he dodged out of cover, jumping to his feet, and wildly sprinted between his enemies. Each blast of magic came dangerously close as he ran faster than he had ever before. _Thud, thud, thud_ the blasts blared angrily behind him. But just as he thought the trick would never work, he noticed the blasts stopped.

Surprised at how fast he had run, he quickly spun around to witness the two lying limp on the floor. "Just as dumb as goblins, if not more" Kenrick spat at the two.

Excited at his feat, he gazed around for a way up to the stone. Two red sinew-like surfaces led up to the center where a platform jutted out over the floor far below. Carefully he inched closer and closer to the stone, afraid however, that the flame coursing through the orb would burn his hands. But with a courageous breath he reached for the orb and snagged it from the hovering position. His hands were fine, and in them held the key to the hellish gate.

"Now what?" Kenrick gazed around, thinking he might have to leave through the portal in order for it to fully shut. But just as he thought this the ground began to violently shake. A burning sound drifted into Kenrick's ears. Steadily it grew louder and louder until he noticed the beam of fire begin to bubble up through the floor, vehemently shaking the entire room.

The roof began to collapse, but Kenrick could not escape, for the fire was now above the middle platform and vastly rising to meet him. The chunks of fallen ceiling came close to hitting him, and soon he had to start dodging the pieces.

After one large chunk fell directly for Kenrick, he dodged out of the way. But to his dismay, another large piece hurled right for him. With the collapsing ceiling and the rising fire there was little else to do than close his eyes and pray for a miraculous escape. But Kenrick felt this to be the end. Though, he thought of all the lives he just might have saved. An inner peace welled in him as he smiled at the joy he may have brought a family - the same joy he once experienced with his own father. And with the peaceful memories of his father, Kenrick saw only white surroundings as the fire engulfed him - yet no pain came with the licking flames.

_'Then the heaven's have granted me a painless death. They generously await me.'_


	14. Emperor's Son

"My boy, you've done it" a familiar voice rang in Kenrick's ears as a strong set of arms gently embraced him.

"Father?" Kenrick winced, his eyes still saw the heavenly whiteness.

A wet nose nuzzled Kenrick's cheek. Gently, the exhausted young man stirred, his eyes slowly regaining their sight. But what they saw was not what he anticipated. A massive set of nostrils hovered above his face – Fahlten's nostrils.

"Have you passed on into the heavens as well, dear friend?" Kenrick stirred some more, sitting up, gazing into the large, concerned brown eyes of his trusted steed.

"Have you lost your mind? You sound like a blathering idiot!" Fahlten snorted in disapproval at his display.

"What?" Kenrick looked around, noticing the familiar charred land of Kvatch. Savlian supported his head and the soldiers awaited him to awake. As he stood up they praised him for the heroic feat accomplished.

"Praise be – the Hero of Kvatch is well!" They all chanted in harmony.

Savlian gazed into his eyes, an excited voice rambled on. "With your help we've beaten the bastards!"

Kenrick still was in a state of shock. Assuredly he should have died. But after several minutes of relaying his experience within the portal he came to the conclusion that the fire must have been of the same teleportation magic used by the fiery appearance of the gate itself.

Again, Savlian stared at the young man in astonishment. "You, my boy, have far more combat experience it seems than the men here. Would you accompany us into the city to drive out the rest of the Daedra horde?"

Kenrick's knees wobbled, showing his current state of weakness. Upon seeing this one of the guards came to him, an Altmer.

"Kenrick?" His head spun to the right to greet the mer's. "I could help you… with your weakness I mean."

Kenrick cocked his head to the side, confused as to how the mer could possibly do that. But with a quick wave of his hand, the mer cast a spell over Kenrick. Rejuvenative magic coursed through his body, releasing the aching pains welled up within. A new energy surged over him, and he felt he could battle a hundred more times without growing weary.

"What was that? I feel… good!" Kenrick stood upright, stretching his muscles in the process.

"A restore fatigue spell." The mer smiled, satisfied with his work.

"Well, Savlian… I would be honored to join you and your men in retaking the city."

"Capital!" Savlian rallied his men together, giving a long speech on duty and honor, and how the forces of darkness shall not prevail against the power of the light, etc.

As the large doors creaked open several Daedra turned around in shock that their gate had been destroyed. Livid eyes settled on their pursuers, a malice burning in them. Gnashing teeth charged at the soldiers.

At this all the men rushed into the city, mixing in a frenzied battle between courage-filled soldiers and the spawn of Oblivion. The masses of creatures heavily slowed their progress of advancement. But in the end the warriors fought together against the superior odds, claiming victory for the just.

Rubble barred the paths throughout most of the city, except for a single path set before them. The path led to the Chapel of Kvatch, the only remaining building in sight. Hastily Kenrick rushed forward, looking for the heir to the throne.

A single female Redguard and a male Imperial secured the door from invaders. "Have the Daedra been driven back" the female gasped upon seeing Kenrick. With a nod of affirmation she ran to tell the people scattered within the good news. After several moments the people began to assemble. As they passed by, preparing to leave, Kenrick asked about the location of Martin – hoping with all the goodness that had come thus far from his adventures that Martin was safe. A kind hand pointed him to a man kneeling in front of the Chapel's altar.

Tears streamed down rosy cheeks. A whispered prayer, notably filled with anger, came from the sputtering lips of the broken-hearted priest. Tattered grey robes hung from his back. Several scars could be seen through the tears in the fabric.

"Martin?" Kenrick tapped the man from behind.

The man sighed, resuming his silent prayer. Kenrick awaited an answer, knowing the pain the priest had suffered. When the man had finished he let out another sigh as he stood.

"Do you need a priest" the broken voice of Martin answered in reply.

"Are you Martin?"

"Yes, I am he. Devoted servant of the Nine" he answered wearily. "If you need a priest… I am sorry to say that I will be of no assistance. I am having much trouble understanding the gods right now."

In desperation to relish the shattered man's state, Kenrick nonchalantly blurted, "The Emperor sent me to find you!"

Martin tilted his head to the right, glaring at Kenrick from the corner of his eye. "The Emperor, you say? I am sorry to inform you then that our lord is dead" he replied coldly.

"I know. But it was his request, the wish of a dying man. He sent me to find you in particular."

Martin turned around to gaze into the eyes of this… boy, claiming the emperor wanted him found. "Why would the Emperor want anything to do with me? I am nothing more than a humble servant of the Nine."

Kenrick took a breath, and told Martin the truth about his lineage. Shocked, Martin shrunk away from Kenrick.

"How can I be the son of the Emperor" his brow furrowed in disbelief. "No, my father was a farmer here in Kvatch."

"He sent me here to protect you from the forces of Oblivion. Why would I lie about this?" Kenrick stomped his foot and pleaded with Martin to at least consider it.

Martin couldn't help, if this claim be true, feeling guilty for the Daedra's invasion upon Kvatch. If he was indeed the heir, and the Daedra had come for him, then he was the cause for so many lives lost. In dishonor, Martin fled from the Chapel to the encampment below.

Kenrick proceeded to take flight after him but was held back by Savlian. "Let him go lad. Let him be. The sudden shock of his lineage must've been hard to take in. He'll be alright with the others down at the encampment."

Agreeing, Kenrick nodded. "Send a guard with him though, if you please."

"Sure thing. Jesan, accompany Brother Martin to camp. Stay with him to ensure his safety." Jesan answered with a 'Yessir!' and promptly sped off after Martin.

"Now," began Savlian, "the Daedra may have been defeated outside of the city gates, but many more are staining our homes, what's left of them, with through their cruelty. Will you join us in the fight to rid the rest of Kvatch of this enemy?" Kenrick nodded, ready to wipe clean the dire stain filling the land. "Then let's move out!"

"Wait" a thick voice shouted. The Imperial legionnaires made their way to Kvatch… finally after two weeks.

"Where have you guys been?" Kenrick stomped up to the towering man, his furious eyes staring into the guardsman's awaiting an answer in return.

"Chancellor Ocato deemed it a hazard to waste the few enough guards we had at the Imperial City. I, however, know for a fact that the city would be perfectly fine were we to send a small platoon to aid our sistering county. I ordered my division of men to move out when Ocato wouldn't see the error of his doing."

Savlian stood before the man, a thankful look in his eye. "You have our gratitude. Now, if there's no more interruptions? Let's move out!"

All the men chanted in unison, "Yessir!"


	15. The Daedra Horde

Burning stones came far too often along the path as the thirty men pressed on into the night, slaying creature upon creature. _'How could any forces, even those of darkness, gain such power to burn even stone'_ Kenrick wondered. With such power he feared the forces of light stood only a sliver of a chance.

"It was a great machine of sorts" Savlian answered, aware of Kenrick's thoughts as he aimlessly gazed upon the ruins.

"What?" How could a machine bring such destruction?

"It came from the giant portal, climbed our walls – as if alive – and burned everything. Except for the Chapel, miraculously." His gaze craned back to the mighty structure. "The gods must've protected that building to safeguard the rest of our people."

Kenrick's thoughts wandered around the mysteries of the Daedric presence invading the land. Indeed they faced a power far greater than any he had heard of before. At least the heavens sent rains, graciously pouring upon the city, dousing most of the flames. Some, though, resisted the weathering conditions.

Aroused from his reverie with a sudden nudge to his side, they had finally come to the great castle of Kvatch. A grand moat freely flowed around the castle. Yet with the heavy rain the guardian river greatly rose. A single enclosed bridge stretched from the mainland of the city to the castle, providing the quickest way in. Unfortunately for the men the gate to the bridge was locked.

Savlian cursed several profanities as he glared profusely at the locked gate – which, to their undying luck, could only be released by a wheel blocked between the inner walls. "Kenrick?"

"Yessir?" Kenrick stood at attention, jokingly, but regained a serious composure when he saw no glint of humor on Savlian's face. "What would you have me do?"

"Back at the Chapel" Savlian stretched his arm far to the east pointing in the direction, "you'll find Berich Inian."

'_Why does that name sound somewhat familiar… as if from a dream I once had? Berich…"_ Kenrick placed aside the feeling of Déjà Vu, snapping his attention back to Savlian.

"You need to get to the Castle Gatehouse and release the gates for us. Inian holds the key." Savlian placed a hand on his shoulder, looking into the eyes of the amazing Hero of Kvatch. "I have faith that you will succeed. Now go!"

* * *

"Berich Inian?" Kenrick stared at the man, waiting for a response. None came.

The aged man kneeled at an altar, praying for a miracle to arrive. Startled from his undying prayers, he jolted around as the young man tapped him, trying to gain his attention. "Y-yes? What is it?"

"Savlian told me to find you; we have little time to waste. The gates are locked to the Castle and he said you have the key."

"R-right." He stuttered, momentarily confused at the meaning for this. "Right," he reiterated, "the Gatehouse of course. Follow me."

Their path was blocked as three Imperial Horsemen walked in. "We saw the smoke of the city and thought we'd investigate." The leader of the three walked up to the two, acquisitioning the dreadful truth.

"Then we're here to serve in whatever way possible." The added three soldiers would greatly improve their chances of success.

"Follow me below to the Chapel Undercroft. There is a back way to the Gatehouse." The three followed Berich and Kenrick, only to find many more enemies welled up in the depths of the sanctuary.

In unison, the five men fought valiantly. And whenever one attained a wound, Kenrick was there to aid with his healing spells. With added _thank you_'s and what not, the soldiers pressed on, ridding their path of the brutes terrorizing Kvatch.

As the five spotted the gatehouse not fifty feet away, they rushed to quickly finish what they started. But to their consternation an ambush was set. Knowing full well the tunnels lead to the gatehouse, many scamps and several Dremora sorcerers appeared from behind the rubble scattered about. Encircled, the warriors huddled together, backs to each other and swords pointed outward.

"What now?" Kenrick gazed around as the enemy drew in closer. He saw two scamps hiss at one another, eyes fixated on him, apparently claiming him for their own enjoyment. As one scamp thrust a claw at another he seized the opportunity to take 'two birds out with one stone'… or sword strike. Kenrick lunged forward, side swinging his blade, decapitating the pair, blood gushing about as the two writhed from the sudden action.

Enraged at the unexpected loss of their comrades, the rest of the scamps rushed in, only to be annihilated by the prowess of the highly trained Imperial soldiers. Berich, on the other hand, had not been so fortunate at keeping the enemies at bay.

He charged forward, a wicked Dremora in sight, firstly slaying three scamps blocking the way, a swift red blade caught his side, sending puddles of blood spraying through the air. He became overwhelmed as the three Dremora closed in upon him. With a sudden burst of adrenaline he lunged to the side, skewering one attacker. A second blade was thrust through his stomach. Still he did not give up. The adrenaline burned inside him fiercely. His heavy blade decapitated the second Dremora. But a third blade, thrust through his upper abdomen, pierced a lung, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Enraged at the horrific sight, Kenrick rushed upon the attacker, swiftly hewing the beast in two. His arms caught Berich before his head could fully hit the ground. With a limp arm Berich raised the key, tears streaming down his face, burbling in a defeated voice, "Save the rest of Kvatch, my prayers have been answered."

Kenrick hastily drew upon his magicka reserves struggling to heal the man, carelessly placing his hand over the bloodied wound. But a hand, Berich's own, brushed away the aid, and in a dying breath Berich said, "No, my time has come." Kenrick wept at the loss of yet another brave soldier who willingly risked his life for the better of Cyrodiil - there being too few of them as it was. And thus forth Berich Inian was no more.

"I am sorry, lad." The captain of the guards placed a firm hand on Kenrick's shoulder, comfortingly stating he understood the pain, but their mission must go on.

With a weary nod, Kenrick stood, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Tremendous heat rose from the bowels of the city. The hatch to the underground tunnel, now opened, revealed several raging infernos beneath. Cautiously the quartet proceeded, evading large piles of rubble and licks of fire when needed.

A long carved out tunnel led to an opposing ladder. Atop Kenrick found himself between the outer wall and inner wall of the Castle, two barred gates blocking any access and plenty of Daedra flooding the castle court. He stuck his hand out, first off motioning for the men to be silent, and second to stay put. He would try and sneak to the other side of the way where the gate wheel sat.

Dumbfounded at his forgetfulness, Kenrick smacked his forehead, slipped on his ring, and scurried to the other side. He took off the ring and began to rapidly twist the wheel. Screeches could be heard as the beasts on the other side of the barrier noticed the upward motion of the sliding gate and the lot of angry men rushing upon their position.

Rambling about, the Daedra found themselves easily dispatched of as the soldiers quickly cut through their soft hides. And in joyous unison all the men _hurrahed_ shouted praises to the young lad for his audacity. Savlian raised a hand, motioning for silence.

"Now on to the castle, hurry! The Count may yet still be alive."

The inner hall of the majestic castle would have been inviting, had it not been for the multitude of Daedra, blood stains marring the otherwise beautiful marble flooring, and the crumbling pillars erected to support the ceiling now threatening to cave in.

As if in unison, all scamps in the immediate vicinity hissed at the intruders, alerting the scamps not so near to their guests' arrival. But just as before, the platoon of soldiers rushed the beasties, clearing the great hall of its ill-timed visitors.

Savlian frantically gazed around, seeing no sign of their Imperial leader. "Kenrick, take some men and find Count Ormellius Goldwine. We'll hold the hall. Do not return without him!" His brusque orders strained in the ears of the young man, having not heard such a harsh order since he stood next to the Emperor when Baurus and Glenroy ordered him to safeguard their liege. But with little else to do, Kenrick gathered several men and searched the inner halls of the Castle for a royally garbed figure.

Several rooms, left lifeless in the wake of the group, bore no sign of the Count. Truly, this was disconcerting as fewer rooms remain left to investigate. Yet as the group came upon a long hallway, burning rubble – books, bodies, demons – lead them to a far off hallway where one last room lay in wait.

Quickly they combed the room, finding only a scamp nibbling on the remains of a darkened piece of cloth wrapped around crimson stained flesh. Disgusted at the sight, Kenrick leapt across the room, making quick work of the foul beast. A golden signet fell to the ground. On the inside was inscribed 'to our Lord Goldwine we offer thee this signet as sign of your bountiful rule".

Miserable and distraught, they returned.

"Where is Count Ormellius?" Savlian glared at Kenrick, only to see a dismal look in his eyes.

"I am sorry, Savlian. Your leader no longer walks to see the light of day."

"What?" Savlian recoiled from the news.

Kenrick outstretched his palm, offering the signet. "This is all that was left of our Lord Goldwine."

Savlian broke down, wailing at his own slothfulness. "If only I had gotten here sooner" he cried.

Several moments passed by in reverence to their deceased ruler. And as Savlian rose from his stupor he thanked Kenrick for the hope he brought to Kvatch. "Take this." Savlian unbuckled his silver longsword. Its pristine quality sparkled in the firelight. "I have no more use for it. My days of combat are said and done. May Areia – the silver light – offer you a more fortunate outcome."

Kenrick knelt to one knee, graciously accepting the sword. "It was my honor to serve alongside such noble men." And with that Kenrick returned to the charred remains outside the city.

"Nice blade." Fahlten neighed at the peace brought about by their doing. Slowly he trotted downhill, Kenrick at his side, a silence fell between them as they soaked in the good brought about thus far.

At the base of the hill, the hustle and bustle of the scattered people halted. Suddenly cheers erupted from their mouths, praising the Hero's of Kvatch – recognizing Fahlten as an intelligent being as well. But amidst the crowd, only one face caught Kenrick's attention. The broken-hearted gaze of a man destined for greatness rested upon the truth he came to realize. Martin stared into Kenrick's knowing look, sensing a deep compassion flowing freely from the gentle blue eyes.

'_The world will see you differently now, for the better. I promise'_ Kenrick relayed through the mental link he felt as if to share at this single moment in time.

'_It is as I fear… the great unknowing set before me'_ was all the gentle gaze could muster.


	16. Trip to Weynon

"Where exactly are we going?" Martin much disliked riding horses, having ridden them only a few times, and always had his stomach churned at the constant jostling – up and down, to and fro. Despite his "father" being a farmer, he never fully became acquainted with them. Kenrick and Martin walked side by side.

"Northeast of Chorrol to a hidden Priory – Weynon Priory to be exact." Kenrick understood the churning of stomachs when out at sea. The waves splashing against the side of the boat, that awful noise ringing in his ears mixed with the smell of salted water spraying up his nose; the way the sea rocked the boat from side to side as it carelessly bounced about on the tips of waves, threatening to capsize at any given moment; and the driving winds tossing the boast about – all of these were just enough to make _him_ hurl. But how on the gods' green earth could you get sick from riding a horse? The way the wind gracefully blows past your face, thrusting the effervescent aromas of budding flowers and fresh trees into your nasal cavity. The steady _clippity clop_ of the horses patterned hooves upon the ground. It was all bliss to Kenrick – _freedom_ he oftentimes described it.

To Kenrick, Martin wasn't exactly the brightest apple in the bushel. But who was he to judge. He coincidentally remembered back to a certain circumstance that happened when he reached his hand into a tree while trying to "gather" some honey from an "abandoned" bees nest. Kenrick shuddered at the memory, remembering how many welts plagued his back from the relentless attack of the swarming bees. Luckily he hadn't been allergic.

Perhaps it was just the fact that everything he brought up about the world Martin nervously declined to talk about. Even if he had just learned that his apportioned fate was to someday soon, and hopefully very soon, rule the entire Empire, he seemed rather inauspicious. Though, giving Martin the benefit of the doubt, Kenrick treated him with the utmost respect as he was, in fact and in truth, the heir to the throne.

"Kenrick?" Martin looked to him in a serious tone, a single question plaguing his mind for fear of the unknown – was Kenrick truly an ally? Though the truth would only be known as time progressed.

Kenrick turned his gaze upon Martin, pleased to finally break the long, awkward silence.

"How did you come to meet the Emperor… err, my _father_?" He corrected himself, but still not quite comfortable in saying it.

Kenrick's gaze slowly turned away, clearly remembering the day it all happened. With a slow breath and a grimacing expression Kenrick recalled back to Martin the day he was imprisoned.

"My father…" Kenrick glared upon remembering the sight "was brutally murdered by men garbed in red robes. Of the same group, I believe, to have brought forth that Oblivion gate."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Kenrick."

"From there I was mistaken as a murderer, drug off to prison, and forgotten about on death row, thankfully. But one day, by chance, the Emperor came into my cell while his guardsmen, the blades, were leading him out on a secret escape route leading through my cell."

"I see" Martin twiddled his thumbs. "Well, they say you drove back the Daedra horde, singlehandedly even."

Kenrick smiled, correcting the fallacy. "I couldn't have done it without the help of Savlian and his men." Fahlten nudged his shoulder, blatantly informing him of the _first_ member to his party. "And that of my good friend Fahlten." The prideful horse puckered up his nose, shaking his mane as the two chuckled at the humorous sight.

"So, stallion of the Mhlanc, how have you come to be in league with _him_?"

Fahlten snickered, receiving his well-earned, and far overdue, credit. Lengthily he relayed the past week's adventure, taking several hours to impart. Kenrick murmured at the fact that horses have incredibly detailed memories, and "tell wonderfully long and arduous tales". Martin, intrigued the whole while, listened intently, occasionally adding in an "ooh" or "ah" when Fahlten reached several climactically intriguing points.

* * *

"My lord" the cult follower cowered in the presence of his master, fervently bowing in his presence. "I have urgent news from Kvatch" he said, stressing the word urgent indicated he meant "_bad_ news_"_.

Two lidless eyes, it seemed, peered at him from beneath furrowed brows. A harsh judging tone threatened the mortal's life. The follower flinched at the growl, greatly afraid of what his master would do should he relay the truth – nothing more, nothing less.

"Well?" The man questioned, a hint of annoyance filled his voice.

"My L-lord," he stuttered, beady sweat skimming his eyes, "Kvatch has been r-re…" he gulped, suddenly flinging up his arms in fright to cover his face as he rapidly finished, "retaken!"

"What!" blared the man, furious at the inescapable news. The being rose to his feet, ardently pacing about. He craned his neck back and forth, trying to cool down from the heated information. A single finger standing erect on each hand, rubbed his pulsating temples, doing little to release the pressure within.

In a lightning quick movement a forceful hand contacted trembling flesh, sending the disciple skidding across the room. Controlling his breathing, the master reached a hand down, firmly grasping the cloak of his informant. "What of Martin" he stared irately, flaming eyes boring into the other man's.

"Rescued by someone whom they call their _'Hero of Kvatch'_ or something of the sort."

A low growl escaped the evil maw, mumbling a curse of Dunmeris origin. "Find me that damned Amulet!"

"Y-yes my lord."

* * *

A gentle shake startled Kenrick, arousing him from pleasant dreams of farming near Anvil. Martin gingerly hovered above him; a merry smile spread from rosy cheek to rosy cheek. But too with the sight of Martin's gay expression came the pleasant scent of breakfast.

A small fire, towered by two poles on opposing sides, roasted a most delicious smelling wild rabbit. Aromas of well seasoned meat – the sweet essence of honey clover none-the-less – joyously danced about in the air, colliding with Kenrick's probing sniffer.

Breathing in deeply, Kenrick absorbed the welcomed fragrances, longing to sink his teeth into the moistened, pinkish-white meat. With a quick rap to his hand, delaying them both from enjoying the meal, Martin offered thanks to the Nine Divines, if they still watched over him that is. Martin then meticulously carved the meat with a simple steel knife he carried around, graciously handing Kenrick a larger portion.

Invigorated at finally having a decent meal, Kenrick, flagrantly inhaling the smallish chunks of meat, rarely paused in between bites for breaths. Not caring to savor so much the delicious flavor as to finally fill his over grumbling stomach.

Fahlten shook his mane at the impertinence of Kenrick. "Breathe" he chortled seeing the amusing sight of Kenrick's hiccupping.

_Hic, hic, hic_. Kenrick couldn't get out two words with the vast amount of breathy constipations fluttering from his mouth. With a deep breath Kenrick sat there, arms folded across his chest, half glaring half trying not to laugh, wishing he had slowed down to resume sating his anticipated hunger.

"Kenrick, how much longer do you think it'll be until we arrive at Weynon Priory?" Martin took another bite of his share, patiently awaiting Kenrick's response.

Slow and deep breaths – the way his Father taught him to do when he hastily engulfed his meals after a long day's work – took care of the incessant vocalized palpitations. "Today it'll have been a week. We should be there by the end of today" he replied, adding "hopefully" because he honestly didn't pay attention the whole time while he and Fahlten traveled from Chorrol.

Fahlten sighed at his ignorance, even though his riposte was, more or less, correct. "Yes, we will be there by tonight. Already we're on the edge of the Great Forest and Chorrol lies, actually, only half a day's travel away."

The two Imperial's nodded their heads in appreciation and packed up their belongings to continue on.

Over the past week Kenrick learned much about Martin, seeing as how when traveling with someone you get the opportunity to observe their behaviors – that and the fact that Martin was opening up provided Kenrick with plenty of new information on rotating crops, the duties of a priest in the service of the Nine, and the overall healthcare of the current citizen's, and those of travelers, as part of that occupation. Martin had even been able to somewhat instruct Kenrick in various forms of Restoration Magic – such as: respite spells, strengthening spells, and even health absorption spells – all of which added to his overall knowledge of "Brother" Martin, a more auspicious character than when he had first met him. Though the most fascinating spell Kenrick learnt from Martin, one of the more darker forms of magic in truth, a conjuration spell! Over the days traveling Kenrick practiced summoning a scamp, oftentimes having it run around like a craved lunatic. He and Martin laughed at the hilarious sights.

Indeed, the two began to act like brothers more than anything. The constant jokes spread between them, the information freely flowing as time progressed, even the more intimate details of their pasts budding from the knowledge that the other would listen for once and not criticize. Close they became, and day by day their relationship strengthened despite the incredibly short time that had passed.


	17. Having Lost This Turn

Night came, uncooperative to the task at hand, as the trio passed Chorrol to the northeast, heading back into the Great Forest – as if a dark towering silhouette grew over the woodlands, seemingly provoked by their intentions. Meager light inappropriately provided a way, causing many a bruised knee as Kenrick and Martin unintentionally thumped their legs against the innumerable raised roots obscured in shadow.

Threatening howls called to each other in the darkened environs, echoing from tree to tree and finally settling in the adventurers' ears. The hair-prickling presence sent shivers down all three spines, a well brought sign that they should hurry. Though the task appeared harder, or didn't appear at all in the case of Weynon's invisible walls, to do in action than in speech.

Perhaps it was only a dull hope that led them on to find Weynon before they collapsed from exhaustion; or perhaps an invisible hand, its only intention to safely bring them to Weynon, pressed them further on into the gloomy forest; or perhaps it was the menacing howls threatening to tear them lib from lib. Martin simply chose the second while Kenrick firmly believed the former. No matter the case, Fahlten convinced both to agree on the fact that the howls _were_ growing closer and they _did_ sound ravenous.

However, as if a tiny voice shrieking from out of nowhere, a wearisome cry resonated within the depths of the woods. Fahlten's ears attentively perked up, straining to hear the voice.

"What is it?" Kenrick noticed the motion of attention, growing curious of the act.

"Shh!" Fahlten ordered, a concerned look in his eye.

All of the sudden a darker than normal Dunmer, for his skin perfectly blended into the background, no reflection from the moons whatsoever, crashed into Kenrick with a soft thump and a sudden "Oww!" The dark Mer rose to his feet, hastily darting about as if looking for pursuers.

"Come! You must. Quick! Help! Weynon. Under attack!" his short breathy words cried. His red eyes, the only indication Kenrick and Martin could tell they were looking in the right direction, desperately gazed around.

"What is it? What has happened?" They all three looked to him, the gasping man taking in short breaths to try and steady his wheezing.

"They're attacking" he finally resumed normal breathing. "People who could conjure weapons out of nothing. They killed our dear Prior Maborel! You must hurry, they're setting the priory ablaze!"

Already they could see the soft, incandescent hue of flames spreading throughout the area. Kenrick and Martin hurriedly mounted Fahlten, despite Martin's contemptible groans, for no time could be wasted, and rode off into the darkness, guided only by the ill-boding tinge licking across the land. A faint desperation achingly dug into the pits of their stomachs.

The orange tint steadily grew brighter with each passing moment, the three drew ever closer… closer to the murderous bastards defacing their homeland. And in a moment's notice the priory emerged before them, red, orange and yellow flames engulfing the once safe haven.

Martin saw a monk's motionless body, garbed in the usual black linens, rapidly catch fire. Mostly wanting just be off the back of Fahlten, Martin ran to the body, quickly casting a frost spell upon it, dousing the flames. He was already dead. Several skewer marks revealed a stream of blood staining Martin's gray robes. But quickly his attention turned to another man's dying gasps.

The familiar blue flare of a healing spell met with the young monk's wounds, saving him from certain death. A sputter of blood sprayed from his mouth as he coughed, releasing the last of his pain. He gazed up to Martin, thanking him. A weak hand pointed to the chapel, it daring to catch fire. "Jauffre" was all he could muster from the lack of blood draining his strength.

"Kenrick!" Martin yelled, thrusting a conveying hand towards the chapel. He nodded, leaping off of Fahlten's back, sprinting forward while urging not to waste any time.

He vigorously shoved open the doors just in time to see a deathly blow flying towards Jauffre's head. Yet, almost as if in slow motion to his eyes, the swift monk ducked sideways, sinking a concealed blade in the crimson clad abdomen of his attacker. Two more enemies blocked his path. Promptly closing the distance between them, Jauffre made quick work of the two, standing before Kenrick with a horrified face.

"The Amulet, they've come for it. Quick, we must hurry." He sped off for the priory, dodging several flaming timbers as he burst through the door.

Kenrick soon chased after, impressed with the inhumanly athletic skill the monk seemed to possess despite his age.

"They've taken it. The Amulet of Kings is missing" Jauffre exclaimed as Kenrick walked up behind him.

"What?" Kenrick looked horrified. In spite of his determined work to safely bring Martin here to rightly claim what was to be his, the amulet was stolen by the minions of darkness.

Jauffre sighed, greatly frustrated by the unfortunate set of circumstances befallen them. "I am glad to see you though, Kenrick. But by the Nine please tell me you have some good news."

"Martin is safe" Kenrick nodded, grateful of at least one accomplished thing.

"That is good news" Jauffre replied. "But we cannot stay here. The servants of Dagon likely patrol these woods seeking the heir." Kenrick agreed. "We'll make for Cloud Ruler Temple. He'll most assuredly be safe there."

* * *

Martin groaned, yet again, at the fact of having to mount a horse.

"Please sire, you must" Jauffre calmly chided him along. "We have little time to spare and danger might lurk around every corner."

Martin firmly crossed his arms, refusing to do such.

"Come now" Jauffre scowled, "you're acting like a child. Get over yourself and mount the horse."

Reluctantly Martin seated himself upon the Chestnut Stallion, its auburn flanks reflecting the crimson glow of the dying fire.

"There's a boy" Kenrick taunted. Martin coldly glared at him, wishing all the while to just be over with this and at Cloud Ruler.

Little enough was left, but Brother Piner, the one who Martin healed, returned with a book to give him. "The Warp in the West. This book helped me learn more about the defensive sides of combat. May it too help you in your endeavors."

"Thank you, Brother of the Nines. It shall be put to good use." Martin politely inclined his head, a grateful smile cast upon his face.

"Piner" Jauffre called.

"Yes, Grandmaster Jauffre?" he replied, with an almost skipping motion bound in his feet as he sidled closer to Jauffre.

"You are now in charge of the Priory. Rebuild it and show mercy to those in death who would otherwise show you none. Remember, the Nine guide our paths. It is our duty to respect all living things." Jauffre placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, an honored glint in his eye.

"I shall, Grandmaster. You have my word." Piner backed away, allowing them to now leave.

It would be a long and tiresome journey, but too it would most assuredly be worth every minute of their travels.

* * *

The steady beat of horses' hooves sounded against the cobble stone road leading to Bruma. Noses sneezed, burning red from the immense frigidity of the Northern atmosphere, dripping slightly. Martin quickly cast an ice barrier, shielding himself somewhat from the chilled air. His constant shivering subsided, at least taking one of his worries away.

Still, the single detail afflicting his stomach – the 'ups and downs' of riding a horse. Although, it hadn't been as bad as he remembered all those years ago. His sickness, now, was more of an annoyance rather than a syndrome.

Kenrick drew back, well behind Martin, pleasantly conversing with Fahlten. Though, the chilled air sent, more and more frequently, shivers down his spine, and chattering teeth soon followed in suit. He'd not too long ago been in Bruma, but the air felt colder somehow. Tightly he wrapped his arms close to his torso, trying to conserve as much warmth within him as possible.

Seeing Martin cast that spell offered him a small hope of comfort. Quickly he sped ahead, riding parallel alongside Martin. "What was that spell you just cast?" He noticed Martin's shivers completely subsided.

"It was merely a frost shield. Would you care to learn?" Kenrick enthusiastically shook his head, thankful for any kind of relief from the bitter element. After several attempts, and nearly burning himself from incorrectly pronouncing the necessary words, he learned how to cast a basic frost shield.

Pleased with his work, Kenrick calmly leaned back in Fahtlen's saddle.

"You know, Kenrick" Fahlten twisted his head to the side, idly glaring. "You can be quite a pain the neck… or backside" he murmured.

"What did you say?" Kenrick pretended not to hear him, instead smirked and continued absorbing the serenities of nature.

"Must you always complain? This weather is absolutely splendid. I enjoy the climate of Bruma."

"Well," Kenrick's cheeks flushed, provoked to reply, "I'm not the one with fur covering my back. All I have is this iron armor." He smacked Fahlten's side and continued on about how the horse had lived here for years and adapted to the climate.

Fahlten snorted, annoyed with the incessant bantering. "Oh, hush it" he finally hissed, fed up with Kenrick's nonsense.

Jauffre halted, a firm hand placed above his head calling for them to cease their movements. The mighty city of Bruma loomed before, a welcomed sight amidst the weathering conditions. He pointed for them to continue along the right path, leading straight to their destined target.

"Finally" Martin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Home" Fahlten whinnied.

"Ah, my good friends!" Kenrick rejoiced.

"What?" Jauffre looked back to him.

"They instructed me on where I should look to find you, Jauffre." Kenrick shrugged.

"Oh, right then. Let's continue."


	18. Embracing The Heir

Invigorated in finally arriving at Cloud Ruler, the three men dismounted and stood before the massive gates. Slowly, groaning in protest, the doors opened, revealing one of the many Blades.

"Cyrus" Jauffre embraced the chocolate-skinned Redguard, glad to see he still stuck around. "Last time I saw you, you were grumbling about the work being too difficult here. I thought you would leave soon after I departed."

Cyrus shook his head, grateful he didn't. "Is this him…" he turned to Martin "is he the heir?"

Jauffre placed a hand on Cyrus' shoulder; a relieved smile affirmed the great news. Cyrus leapt for joy, dancing about as the last heir stood before him.

"My king" he fervently bowed. Martin just stared, unnerved as to what he was supposed to do.

"Thank you" he nervously replied. Cyrus showed a wide toothy grin, and bid them come in.

"Blades" Cyrus shouted, many of them appearing from various corners of the establishment. A blissful whisper spread among them, '_the heir has come'_.

Even though they _knew_ what great joy Cyrus brought, their mouths remained shut. Like that of the quiet, breathless sigh awaited after waking up to hear news that the war is over and won – everyone, all the Blades gathered, huddled around him.

"My fellow companions," Cyrus began, an occasional laugh from him brought about by sheer joy welled up inside, trying not to let it burst out all at once, "it is with great pleasure that I announce…" everyone held their breath, waiting for him to say it.

Jauffre, Kenrick, and Martin walked up behind Cyrus. All three passed down the center path, sided by the many warriors gazing upon Martin as he stood at front, slowly turning around to greet the eyes of his now loyal bodyguards.

"It is with a deep, abiding honor that I announce the heir to the throne of Cyrodiil!" They all rejoiced, raising their blades in unison to honor their new king.

Martin gingerly raised a hand, as if unsure in what he should do exactly, asking for silence. Everyone quieted. "Thank you all. I shall do my best to be… the Emperor. That is all."

"No, thank you, Martin" Jauffre smiled at his first step in the right direction. "Alright, everyone. Go back to you duties."

Kenrick looked to Martin, his dark brown hair gently hanging over his eyes. He placed an assured hand on his shoulder. Martin looked up, almost confused.

"They all look to me to be the ruler of Cyrodiil. Furthermore the ruler of all Tamriel." His eyes steadily widening at this fact, his voice growing dimmer. "They expect me to know how to act, how to present myself. My first act as Emperor…" his words trailed off.

"We must find the Amulet of Kings" Kenrick supplied the suggestion.

"Right" Martin faintly smiled. "So we… I" he corrected himself "can relight the Dragon Fires, and rid Cyrodiil of the Oblivion invasion." Kenrick nodded his head, a comforting look in his eye. "Thank you, Kenrick" Martin shook his hand and left to explore the sacred monastery.

His quarters, a small side room at the top of a wooden staircase in the East Wing of the temple, offered a much greater comfort than he'd had in several weeks. A quaint bed, silky smooth linens lining the top, and several soft pillows hunched off to one side, was pressed up against the eastern wall. A bookshelf above his bed housed a decent collection of war stories, history lessons on past wars, and the more commonly used books – How to Fight in a War: Unison with Your Surrounding Comrades.

"How appropriate" Martin ridiculed the collection, a dry tone to voice.

With a sigh he gazed to his left. A writing desk complete with ink, quill, and a fair supply of parchment, housed several more interesting titles: The Legendary Sancre Tor, The Doors of Oblivion (one he was not quite comfortable picking up yet, but hopefully would read it soon), The Amulet of Kings (the book), Azura and the Box, Modern Heretics, along with several other books on the various deities. Finally he came to the end – the illustrious, if rather provocative and inappropriate, The Lusty Argonian Maid.

"Someone has been rather naughty" Martin chuckled to himself.

Back outside Kenrick and Jauffre sat on the front steps, discussing Kenrick's adventure in Dagon's hellhole. An hour or so past by, unnoticed until Kenrick finally finished his account. They rose to be off, parting in separate directions, when a sudden grasp held Kenrick's shoulder, turning him around. Jauffre stared into his eyes, a freshly sharpened katana clutched in his right hand. Kenrick grew somewhat uneasy.

"You have proven yourself loyal as any other Blade. It is with great respect I ask you to join our humble ranks." Jauffre somberly held out the sword between his two hands.

Kenrick took the blade, a comical smile on his lips. A joyful dream cast through his mind.

"Then you accept?" asked Jauffre.

Aroused from his reverie, Kenrick eagerly nodded.

"Good" Jauffre smiled. "When Secunda and Masser fade and the light of dawn come, meet me out here. I have a special task in mind for you. One we are desperately in need of." Kenrick nodded again, overly glad to be in the service of one's so revered.

* * *

_A darkened figure clouded the pathway up ahead, its blackened silhouette in complete contrast with the white light, humming, it seemed, in the background. Mold grew on the surrounding walls, smelling of something awful, plaguing Kenrick's senses. Grimacing at the stench, he sprinted for the being, hoping at least to be rid the odorous stain._

_Slight grayish stone walls, enclosed on all four sides of the tunnel, led to an opening in a large circular chamber. A curvilinear ramp led down to a narrow stone bridge stretched between one side of the room, at the base of the ramp, to the other, an opened iron gate bidding him enter. On each side of the bridge, muddy water filled a deep chasm of sorts, infested with slaughterfish ready to tear him apart, their vicious maws chomping away at the mere sight of him._

_The murky apparition, with what appeared to be its hand, gestured for Kenrick to follow as it walked into the gate heading down another tunnel. Hastily he scurried across the bridge, dodging several of the fiends as he traversed the full length. Off in the distance, he could see that strange white light again – it seemed to pulsate, rhythmically doing so as it hummed a graceful tune – a familiar tune. The perpetual curiosity amassed within him brushed aside the sense of familiarity, edging him further and further along._

_Though, no longer had he stepped foot into the hallway had he seemed to be teleported ahead. He was outside now, the dark crimson skies of Oblivion overhead, threatening to strike him down with an accursed bolt of lightning. The dark figure stood atop a hill baiting him further along. That same familiarity kept ringing in the depths of his mind – that overwhelming comfort he found in the unknown being. But, with a quick flash of lightning, the being vanished, only to send him soaring across the lands and back into the sewers, away from it all._

* * *

Cyrus' hand was on Kenrick's shoulder, trying to awaken the jostling boy from his nightmare. "Kenrick, Kenrick!" Kenrick started with a sudden gasp. Sweat dripping from his brow, clinging to his clothes, and trailing down his back. The chilled air from the opened door in front of him quickly frosted them over, tiny icicles clinging to his chest, back, and face. Their unsolicited presence sent shivers down his spine. Hastily he gathered his belongings, seeing the bright light of the new morning's sun, having remembered Jauffre's explicit orders.

The cool air was rather refreshing, but brought no comfort to Kenrick. It was cold, dry, and brought no enjoyment except for the frozen sight of the Jerall Mountains. _'Dismally delightful'_ his mind wandered over the vastness of the mountains. He found pleasure in the sight of the snowy mountains, but his body had achingly protested against the idea.

Two swordsmen noisily sparred on an elegant green turf to the right of the temple. Their clashing clearly rang out in the air, adding to Kenrick's already increasing head ache. Quickly, remembering the words for the frost barrier, Kenrick cast it over himself with what was left of his magicka. The headache slightly subsided, the chilled air not bothering it anymore, but the incessant clashing relieved none of its malice.

"Ah, Kenrick" Jauffre's voice was at least somewhat delightful amongst the frigid climate.

Kenrick glanced over at him as he walked up, the real Grandmaster fully displayed before his eyes. Ornate Akaviri armor covered his body, gold trimming around the edges of the armor, and a silver snake symbol flawlessly etched into the chest plate. A dai-katana, Jauffre's preferred choice of weapon over its smaller counterpart, hung from his back.

Jauffre looked him over; sure the task was doable by him. "There is an informant in the Imperial City. One of our own men, a Blade." Kenrick nodded, showing he followed. "He has several leads on whom the assassin's could be. I want you to go there, help him uncover this part of the mystery, and report back when you have found viable evidence of their doing. You'll find him, most likely, in Luther Broad's Boarding House in the Elven Gardens District."

Kenrick nodded again, about to leave. Coming to mind, he had a question racing through his head ever since this whole thing had started. "How is it the Amulet of Kings can halt this invasion? I mean, it _IS_ just a piece of jewelry, right?"

Jauffre slowly shook his head. "No, the Dragon's Crown is just a piece of jewelry. The Amulet of Kings, however, has great power." Kenrick just looked confused. Jauffre motioned for him to sit, giving him a brief lecture on the history of the Amulet. How Akatosh graciously gave his blood as a covenant to Alessia. That as long her line of descendants remain living, he would endeavor to keep the hell-gates of Oblivion at bay. With the lighting of the Dragon Fires, Akatosh shall know the heir to the throne, a Septim none-the-less, is willing to keep Cyrodiil in health and prosperity, and so shall he keep the demons from ruining the land.


	19. Nearly Two Weeks Late!

The Imperial City – It had been far too long since Kenrick last saw it. How the massive white stone walls encircled the city, how the towering spire rose to such a great height, the centre for all '_political garble_' Kenrick thought, it all rendered him speechless. It took him a couple days to arrive, but the mere sight of it took his breath away. He finally saw the entirety of it as he stood there on a large hill overlooking the city from afar. Trees gently swaying in the wind around him, grass bowing before the ethereal presence, and his hair, having grown out during his adventures, flowing just above his shoulders, he stood in awe as the sun began to settle in the west, casting a lustrous haze over the city.

Having left Fahlten in the care of the Blades, hearing full well of the "hospitality" the Imperial City's caregiver, an Orc of all things, gave the horses she housed for travelers. He had no love for their kind, but still kept his feelings inward and tried his best to treat them, for some he knew to actually hold a bit of class, with the same respect he tried to treat everyone else with. Even so, he did _NOT_ trust their ilk.

Navigating his way through the city, he finally came to the Elven Gardens District, a bustling sector consisting primarily of Mer. _'Hint the name "Elven" Gardens_' he chuckled. The day was rather late, the sun having completely sunken beyond the western horizon, probably nearing close to eight or nine in the evening. He'd visit Luther's tomorrow.

Backtracking, he found his way into the Talos Plaza. The glorious dragon statue of Akatosh stood proud in the center of the Common, surrounded by various plants and encircled by the same sallow stone comprising the city's totality. But, what was it about the gods that Kenrick couldn't seem to grasp? Was it, perchance, the idea that some mystical beings who _ruled_ the fate of all watched over him, guiding his every action. It was all absurd to him. How could he possibly believe in something so preposterous?

Magicka and science were real enough. But, what about the plains of Oblivion? _'It's only some seriously powerful magicka'_ he reminded himself. _'Whoever this Dagon is'_ shivers crept down his spine just upon thinking the name. Quickly he tossed aside the ideas racing through his mind, concerning himself with only finding a suitable place to sleep for the night.

Most of the hotels and inns were rather expensive. Deciding he'd pay a visit to his first friend made in the city, Velus, he made his way back to the Market District.

"Hello young man, can I get you somethi…" Velus gazed into the familiar eyes as he stepped closer to the boy who stepped in. "Master Kenrick?" He asked, a smile spread from to cheek to cheek, revealing his dimples. "Oi! I almost didn't recognize you. It sure is good to see you again. Come, sit down, have a drink on me and tell me everything. I've heard stories of a young man being some alleged Hero of Kvatch…"

Kenrick suppressed a faint smile, trying not to reveal it was he who the "rumors" were about.

"It was you!" Velus burst in a joyous mirth, belly bouncing in his excitement. "So? Go on!"

* * *

It must have been midnight, or at least not far past, when a finger gently tapped Kenrick's shoulder. Waving it away, slurring something bizarre about not wanting to skinny dip in the Rumare due to slaughterfish's attraction to _worms_, he rolled over. A second tap came, this one harder and pounding against his head.

Startled, Kenrick jolted upward, banging his head against a Wood Elf's amidst her drooping gaze. Rubbing his forehead, a massive headache coming on, he looked to his right, the Bosmer too rubbing her head. "Methredel?" He looked at the familiar Mer, her leather outfit different, and then back into her eyes. Garbed in leather armor, etched in the center across the chest a stalking fox, the symbol of the Thieves Guild. She nodded.

"Where have you been?" she curtly inquired.

"What do you mean? Where have I been?" he murmured. "I've been running… err, errands for a friend" he sulked. "So you've finally made it in, eh?" He teased, finally helping the throbbing pain to subside.

"Oh" her cheeks flushed, obviously embarrassed. She folded her arms and stuck out her tongue. "Yes, I have" she replied coldly, glowering at Kenrick.

"Well, well." He faked a smile. "Now would you mind telling me why, exactly, you've just awaken me?" He impatiently tapped his fingers against the bed.

"Armand has had me running all over the place looking for your sorry hide. He's been waiting for your return from Bruma. Though, two weeks is obviously more than enough time to get there, sell your goods, and get back." With a blatant cynical grin, she waited for his retort.

"I told you, I have been running errands for a friend. I met someone in Bruma I hadn't seen in a while, and he asked me a favor." Kenrick furrowed his brow, throwing his head to the side as if offended by the interrogatory questions.

"Well, I'm just the messenger. Armand is not happy with you in the least. Nonetheless, he has a _special_ task for you of some sort." Methredel tossed him an appraising glance, somewhat irritated that she hadn't been signed up for the job.

"What is it?" Kenrick queried, eager to discover more about the job.

"Armand is waiting for you in the usual spot. Go find out for yourself!" She sneered and walked out of the room.

* * *

Methredel was right. Armand paced back and forth, muttering several curses as the hours waned by. He looked up to the sky, as if calculating the hours passed, and then resumed the frivolous pacing. Finally, fed up with the delay, Armand started to walk off. Kenrick pounced from atop the house lining one side of the garden, scaring the Redguard half to death. With a sudden yelp he recoiled, only to realize it was the boy he had been waiting for.

Regaining control of his heightened breathing, Armand furiously glared at Kenrick. "Where in Oblivion have you been?"

"Exactly" Kenrick replied, slight smirk on his lip.

"What?" Armand looked at him confused. "Never mind" he waved his hands around, pressing on into the more serious matters. "Methredel found you I assume?"

Kenrick nodded, not exactly happy about being aroused from his slumber.

Armand gave him a quizzical glare, and continued. "Then you should know that I have an assignment for you." Kenrick nodded again. "The Imperial Watch has recently collected taxes from the Waterfront District."

Kenrick gasped, sarcastically. "Isn't that their job?"

"The people of the Waterfront aren't exactly… oh how should I say this" he held his chin as if deep in thought, then suddenly blared, "rich!"

"Ok, ok. Calm down." Kenrick jolted at the sudden anger he seemingly provoked. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"You're going to retrieve it." Armand grinned.

"How do you propose I do that?"

"In the Temple District, in the far south corner of the plaza, you'll find the Watchtower of the city guard. Lure them out, wait for them to clear the area, do something to distract them… I don't care!" Kenrick sniggered. "But in the top of the tower you'll find the desk of Hieronymus Lex, the pompous fool who dared even collect these taxes." Armand finished, waiting for Kenrick's decision to either accept or decline.

"This act seems awfully noble for the Guild, doesn't it?" Kenrick pondered over this much.

Armand shook his head. "The poor folk of Cyrodiil, particularly those pertaining to the Waterfront, are under the direct care of the Gray Fox. He keeps them safe and they supply him with needed information. Anymore questions?"

Happy with Kenrick's simple "No", Armand continued. "Now, you must collect the sum of fifty septims _along_ with the tax records from whom they collected."

Growing rather impatient, ready to start his mission, Kenrick found himself jittering in place, slowly rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting for Armand to stop talking and let him go. And eventually Armand finished with, "Don't let them catch you or they'll come looking in my direction!" Kenrick tersely nodded, speeding off into the direction of his target.


	20. Emerging His Plan

"So _that_ is the Temple of the One." Kenrick stood before the large, domed temple, noticing two mammoth doors at its front. Large enough, in fact, that Fahlten would be able to burst in there and get a "blessing" from the gods himself. He chuckled at the notion, continuing further into the district, scanning the area for the embedded watchtower.

It fascinated him, all of it, the immaculate structural design the city contained. Thousands of years of Ayleid architecture and they still stood high and mighty. He hadn't paid much attention to the city before, due to the fact of being somewhat on a time critical mission. However, having some time right now, he delayed, only slightly, his current mission to take in the sight of at least the current district he was in.

Coming upon the far south wall, finished with sightseeing for now, he saw the tower. Several guards flowed in and out of the doorway, apparently changing shifts. It was near the first building he had ever _acquired_ an item from. Hastily he scurried between an alleyway as two guards walked by, not wanting to be seen there and then after the pilfering had been committed.

Patiently he sat in the shadows, studying the guards passing in and out of the tower. He noticed as they went in, before the door could be shut that is, they sat down at a small table, got drunk, and climbed a simple ladder leading up to their quarters. It was probably between one and two in the morning when all seemed calm. Now all he had to do was hatch his vindictive plot against the stupefied guardsmen.

Trying his best to sound like a female, he stuck his head up close to the door, summoned up his recently learned friend, screamed 'scamp' and slid back into the shadows. Amused, he had the scamp run around for a moment, dodging the angered soldiers' swings and thrusts, running in and out of the town while distracting the guardsmen from his objective. Feeling his magicka fading, nowhere near empty, but still trickling from his body at a steady rate, he slipped on his ring, went stealth, continuing inward and upward.

Besides the entertaining sight of Hieronymus' buttocks sticking straight up in the air, his private quarters offered no further amusement. The usual accommodations of an Imperial Guardsmen came with, a sword, a shield, armor, and several books of poetry… what? Chuckling at the sight of his rival, Kenrick hadn't thought of the fool to be interested in such an aristocratic hobby. Promptly banishing the thoughts, he returned his focus upon the mission.

The Watch Captain's desk, a small wooden station filtered with various notes and the personal diary of Lex, housed his targets – somewhere beneath the mess. Quietly opening the diary, looking back over his shoulder to make sure the man still lie asleep, Kenrick briefly skimmed over the entries, mostly consisting of "That cursed Gray Fox!"

"Obsessed" Kenrick accidently said a little too loud, but only mildly had Lex stirred. He seemingly muttered something rather profane about the Gray Fox and "dancing swords". Hopefully he had been dreaming about a duel with actual blades. Kenrick shuddered at the thought… no, quickly he pushed it out of mind and swept through the various piles of paperwork, eventually coming to the recent collection. Gingerly gathering the small bag of coins, he made his way back outside and away from the tower, noticing his still dancing scamp. "Complete imbeciles" he thought, calling back his scamp, several guards firmly colliding and looking around rather confused.

* * *

Armand leaned against the city walls, his eyes growing heavy, his head bobbing up trying to keep himself from nodding off. "Where is that little fetcher?" Waiting over an hour, he grew increasingly grumpy, and not only from the fact that the thief was late. He had a massive itch on his back, and his hands couldn't reach it. Too, he felt as if something watched him.

A girlish scream escaped his lips as, once again, Kenrick hopped down from the roof, laughing hysterically at the pathetic yell. Armand started to develop a slight irritation of the newest thief. At least the document had appeared before he went off to bed.

"Where have you been?" Armand snatched the document from Kenrick, motioning him to keep the money. Kenrick only smirked. "It wasn't even worth collecting from the people, the bastards. You can keep the money, at least I have this" he pointed to the document.

"What are you going to do with that?" Kenrick asked, intrigued in the crafty minds of the Thieves Guild.

"Let's just say our mutual friend, Hieronymus, won't know what to do with himself after I take care of this document. Shame and dishonor, as one of the Captains, will freely flow like a fountain of rage poured out upon him from his superiors." Both laughed at the poor watchman's expense.

"Now, just tell me how you accomplished this task." Armand patted him on the back. "I am actually interested to see how you handle your missions. I like to check up on all of the new recruits, inspect their styles."

After several long minutes of describing everything, even the hilarious sight of the watch captain, Kenrick finished with Armand roaring in laughter. Tears were actually aroused, the scamp, Hieronymus' unusual sleeping position, and his love for poetry (which Kenrick found interesting, not funny – he loved to read), all of it sent Armand into a fit of giggles and chuckles.

"You know, you're not bad kid. Just no more sneaking up on me, alright?" Kenrick nodded, although he'd miss the sound of Armand's squeals. "You're now promoted to Footpad. Collect five hundred gold and return. I'll hopefully have another mission for you by then."

Kenrick nodded, once again reenacting Hieronymus' position, sending both back into a fit of laughter. But, tomorrow he retained the role as Blades member. The empire, somehow, counted on him.


	21. Where Am I Going?

Moist and gray fog, a thickened blanket covering the Imperial City, made it difficult for Kenrick to find the Elven Gardens District – more importantly Luther Broad's and the undercover Blades member. The ashen stone walls hadn't helped much, their appearance blending in far too well with the murky pall. Too, the early morning chatter rising throughout the haze, echoing from wall to wall, was nearly enough to overwhelm him in choosing the right direction.

Kenrick wondered to himself, amidst the misty mire, how it was he had survived everything thus far. He was only a farmer's son nearly three months ago, and already he had fought in battles against ruthless enemies, all do to his "skill"? What skill? The greatest thing he had learned from farming was how to plow and sow seeds. Rarely had he even held a blade, the only one ever being his father's sword from his youthful days. Though, could it be hereditary? He hadn't known his mother much, but only vague images of her from his early childhood.

His mother – her darker skin, while not quite the rich brown of a Redguard's, still held that air of one such as their females. He remembered her eyes, dark and mysterious, but ever loving. Then why had she left him? He hadn't remembered them ever betraying her wording. Even as a child, he knew she loved him. Perhaps she was part Redguard, and her warrior's prowess flowed through him. Maybe she left to battle some terrible menace, fighting valiantly to the end.

His father, Caen, never talked as if he resented her leaving, but rather spoke of it as a noble thing. Maybe she was a warrior. Kenrick remembered her name, Karlirah. Surprised, he never thought about it much, but her name was even Redguard. It all came into focus. His talents came from the blood that flowed through him, the blood of a warrior, born naturally into combat. Yet, he felt as though he couldn't place it all on his heritage.

Maybe his life was aided by other means. Perhaps there was some divine calling over his life. While it all sounded foolish to his earthen ears, his spirit told him otherwise. The divines must have helped him, aided him, protected him. There was no other explanation. His heritage, while there, was too small to bring about such courage in him. It was that moment in Kenrick's life he had ever considered the possibility of such beings.

Though, all thoughts halted of everything as he finally found the familiar sign of Luther Broad's Boarding House. The inside, while small and mostly barren, save a few settled souls, contained a sense of security – a protective atmosphere. A man behind the counter, his tonsured head leaned over the counter as he conversed with a dark-skinned man, the darkened face familiar in appearance to Kenrick. The balding man, obviously the proprietor Luther Broad, stared from the corner of his eye at the boy as he walked over. The dark-skinned man, a Redguard, too looked at him from the corner of his eye, and then widened them as he recognized what they now accurately perceived.

As Kenrick approached, the Redguard subtly motioned for him to sit down. Kenrick looked at him confused, but did as ordered. The man's voice, as well was familiar, and Kenrick recognized it.

"Bau – Baurus?"

"Hey kid, check out that man in the back corner." Kenrick did his best to as inconspicuously as possible survey the man. A familiar scar stretched across his left eye. It was the same man who stalked Kenrick during his first days in the city.

Baurus motioned for his attention again, and whispered as quietly as possible. "I'm going to get up in a second. This guy has been following me all day, and he should follow me as I descend down to the basement. When he does, you follow him." Kenrick nodded.

Baurus rose from the studded stool and, just as he said, the scarred man followed him down to the basement. Luther nodded his head at Kenrick, motioning him to hurry. And the momeny Kenrick opened the door he witnessed the man's uniform change with a puff of magical yellow mist, his new outfit a set of crimson armor, the mysterious assassins' attire.

Quickly unsheathing his silver blade, the unified metallic rasps of both his and Baurus' weapons removed from their scabbards, momentarily rang in Kenrick's ears. Together the pair made short work of the menace, equally showing the same prowess like a pair matched blades. And with another yellow plume the crimson armor disappeared.

Baurus exhaled a sigh of relief. "I am glad to see you, by the way. You just caught me at a bad time." Baurus smiled wide, indeed excited that Kenrick had survived. "I've heard talk, Kenrick… is the heir safe?" Kenrick nodded, only increasing the intensity of Baurus' smile. "Thank Talos he lives! Martin they say? This is great news. I've been searching for clues on this mysterious cult. Check this bastard's body for any proof of my discoveries, won't you?"

Kenrick bent down, grabbing the man's satchel and relieved it of a rather hefty book. "Mankar Cameron's Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes: Volume I" Kenrick read aloud as he looked over its cover.

This red leather-bound book, the strange lettering marring its surface, confirmed Baurus suspicions. "The Mythic Dawn," Baurus whispered.

Kenrick started at this, remembering back to his previous visit in the Imperial City. The incompetent fool's incoherent grammar resounded back the sudden memory: _Meethek Don!_

Baurus continued after briefly inquiring about the remembrance, with which Kenrick hastily recounted his adventure. "Anyways, they're a cult devoted to the Daedric Prince, Mehrunes Dagon." Baurus took it from Kenrick, studying its text. After several minutes Baurus told Kenrick about an Argonian Daedric Cult philosopher, Tar-Meena. "She's the one who might know what next to do with this information, and help solve this mystery. She's worked with us before. Just say Baurus sends you. She'll know what to do."

Kenrick nodded and bound away with glee, excited that the mysterious veil of his father's murderers was now uncovered. _Those bastards shall surely suffer for the pain they've caused me!_


	22. Dawn Affirmed

Tar-Meena stood in the foyer of the Arcane University, the central hall for the entire Mages Guild's operation. A slight humming filled the air: a circular pulsating pedestal lie off on the left side of the room granting teleportation between the various levels of the predominant tower. Ignoring the commotion of that and passersby, fixedly staring at an ominous black book, darker than even the darkest nights in Nirn, Tar-Meena skimmed through its vast pages. Though, her gaze dropped, deep in thought about her current task.

Delving deeper into her research, Tar-Meena continued scanning the pages for any clue. Her scaly brows creased, meeting in the middle, her eyes troubled with what they perceived. _What am I looking for? What do they want me to find for them?_

Halting the investigation for now, she glanced up as the main door creaked outward, revealing a young boy. Somehow, his soft blue eyes, while laden with sorrow, held a familiar air of destiny – one she could not quite place, but knew she'd seen somewhere in someplace once upon a time.

Dragging her scaled tail behind, allowing it to slither along the ground like a docile snake, Tar-Meena made her way forward to greet the boy. His face brightened as she welcomed him and announced her name and position. Quickly handing her a red-leather bound tome, he announced his name and position, obviously proud of it.

"Kenrick is your name?" Her raspy voice inquired. "You are a blade, you say?" The boy nodded. "And Baurus sends you?" She stared deep into Kenrick's eyes, seeing the truth behind them. "I should have guessed sooner. Truly I knew of his findings within the city, though I have not been able to speak with him on them. His theory, however, is correct. This book is one of four, and is basically, if I am not mistaken, a guide for individuals to find their way into the secretive Mythic Dawn cult: worshippers of the most dreaded Daedric Prince, Mehrunes Dagon.

"Mankar Cameron's views on Mehrunes Dagon are quite fascinating, I must admit. But few indeed now know the truth hidden within the cult. Still, much remains a mystery as to what they are planning and why. I know we have the second volume stored in our library. Wait here one moment, won't you? I'd like to investigate in a rumor I've quite frequently heard in dealings with these commentaries, but never have had the chance to discover if it be true or false."

Kenrick sat down with a nod on the closest bench, another parallel to him bore a balding Imperial male garbed in bluish garbs partial to the guild. He noticed the man watch Tar-Meena leave; a slight shake of her head sent a faint frown creeping across the man's face, and he then turned his attention upon Kenrick. Kenrick grew uncomfortable as the man's gaze did not relent. His grave stare carried much wisdom, but something unfamiliar to Kenrick glinted in the man's eyes. For several minutes this went on until the man stirred from his seat, rising and gliding over to Kenrick with a tone of expectancy.

"Do I know you?" He politely asked, studying Kenrick with increasing interest.

Kenrick shook his head. "I don't think so. I've only been to the city once before this, and have never even seen this University before now."

"Has any of your family ever been in the guild?"

Kenrick again shook his head, and then paused to think about it. His mother was a healer. Perhaps… "Well, my mother… she might have been."

"What was her name?" His questions discomforted Kenrick. _Why does he want my mother's name?_

"Her name?" The man vigorously nodded. "Her name was Kar…"

"Raminus!" Tar-Meena hissed, walking over to be seated by them. Her brow again met, furrowing in the middle, deepening the glare she threw at the balding man. "I'll not have you pouncing over this young man with your wild stories. He is here on an important mission, if you had not already guessed. You shouldn't concern his mind with anything else right now."

After waving off several of the man's objections, she handed Kenrick the first volume along with the Arcane University's second volume. "Take good care of that, mind you! It is our Library's only copy." Kenrick nodded, inquiring about the third and fourth books.

"Ah, the infamous third book, and the even rarer fourth," she nodded, pondering where best to start. "Unfortunately, I have never held the third volume, let alone never even seen the fourth – based on the rarity of it, of course. But you might try Phintias' First Edition in the Market District. He caters to special collectors. If any were to know of these two books whereabouts it would be him."

"Thank you, Tar-Meena. You've been a great help to me." He smiled, displaying a pleased wide toothy grin. With a quick _yippee_ Kenrick bound back through the front door in search of the other books.

"Raminus?" Tar-Meena turned to the Imperial.

"Yes, Tar-Meena?"

"I know what it was you sought in him." She laid a hand on his shoulder, and a sense of understanding flowed between them.

"He's not ready," Raminus stated.

"No, he is not ready. But soon, I foresee. Yes, soon he shall be ready to know. It came to me when he first smiled as he greeted me with his name." She chuckled as Raminus revealed his usual quizzical face of confusion. "What? Did you really think I only needed to get away to study the books?"

"I wondered why you shook your head at me. I now see why. But do you really think he'll be the one to help us?"

"Honestly, I do not know. I sense the purpose in him strong enough, all right. But to me it looks as though he is waiting for something." She placed a firm hand on Raminus' shoulder. "I do think, when the time comes, he will be the one."

Raminus smiled at the confirmation. "Good."


	23. A Decieved Fool Set Right

"The First Edition… First Edition… Hmm, let's see. Where is it?" Kenrick returned to the Market District after his discussions with Tar-Meena. His current mission: locate and acquire volume three and four of the Mysterium Xarxes Commentaries. Though, with the hustle and bustle of such a crowded district, Kenrick found it hard to find anything of interest.

As Kenrick passed through the immensely trafficked area he pondered what he'd first do should he actually locate the Mythic Dawn's hideout. Blood would have to be shed, that much was a given. _They would have to die a murderer's death,_ he quickly reasoned. _They've shed much blood… they deserve it._

Noon quickly came and passed, and the bright sun beat down on the white cobblestone path, bringing beads of sweat trailing across his forehead and clinging to the rest of his body in an attempt to cool him down. Sighing, he sat for a moment on a small wall offset on the main path, meanwhile relieving his troubled stomach with a few odd bits of food acquired while in the Market District. He twisted about and stared down behind the wall, noticing a small lily pad filled pond, several dozen miniscule fish swimming about in its shallow depth. He wandered for a time deep in the thought, wishing to be freed of his "destiny". He longed to be back at home with his father. It seemed like an eternity ago since all of this began. Sighing again, he slouched on the wall, trying to relieve his mind of the troubled thoughts.

Suddenly, a blur of red motion caught his eye, drawing his attention to a red garbed figure entering what he had been searching for. _Could it be? _Drawing himself up, Kenrick made way towards the garbed figure, a Bosmer, seeing that the garbs were not of the same make as the cult's robes, but indeed very similar. Kenrick went inside, finding the place had an appealing and cozy reading nook off to one side, and found a seat, studying the bookshelves while he waited for the buyer and seller to finish their business.

The seller, a broad shouldered Redguard, obviously Phintias, stood behind the desk, casting an appraising glance towards Kenrick as he settled in. Momentarily averting his eyes from the boy, he turned towards his current customer, Gwinas the Bosmer. And after a brief exchange of gratitude, along with Gwinas' payment, Phintias returned his unrelenting stare of disapproval towards Kenrick. A sudden chill ran down Kenrick's spine, and he quickly left the shop to trail the shorter mer, leaving the irritated Redguard to tend to his own business.

For several minutes Kenrick followed Gwinas: the oblivious elf unaware of his pursuer, until at last rounding a corner he caught glimpse of Kenrick from the corner of his eye. A frantic expression streaked across Gwinas' face, a fearful look of "knowing he'd been caught". In a flurry of motion the Bosmer quickened his pace, desperately trying to escape Kenrick's sight – though, unlike most Wood Elves, Gwinas lacked the speed and agility earned by others from years of diligence and perfected practice. Instead, his plump gut – acquired from years of lazing about and his all too frequent craze for literature, etiquette and regular trips to buy sweet roles – drastically slowed him down, allowing Kenrick to easily overtake him.

"What? Why are you following me?" Gwinas patted his chest, gasping air while grasping at something beneath his cloak, unburdening himself of a substantially sized coin purse. "Is this what you want? Take it!" He screamed. "Take whatever you want. Just leave me alone!"

Kenrick leaned back on his heels and laughed. Confused, Gwinas questioned his sanity. Kenrick waved off the inquiries, but instead pointed to the book.

"What? Why do you want this?" Gwinas questioned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"I need that book to find… _the cult_."

"The Mythic Dawn? Are you…?" Gwinas gasped. "What? I mean… I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know anything about any cult."

"You're in way over your head" Kenrick growled, folding his arms.

"I beg your pardon? You presume to tell me about Daedric Cults?" Gwinas barked in annoyance. "I'll have you know that I've visited the Shrine of Sheogorath during the Festival of the Mad!" Gwinas threw up his arms in an insane manner, proving he was telling the truth. He was obviously insane! Visiting the prince of Mania and Dementia, or any Daedric Prince for that matter, was in all thought absurd and frowned upon by worshippers of the Nine. He continued in this manner, trying to impress his knowledge in the field of Daedra worship, though Kenrick quickly tired of it. "I've spoken with Hermaeus Mora beneath the full moon. I've…"

"They killed the Emperor, you fool!" Kenrick glared at him, furrowing his eyebrows, their dip deepening the longer he waited for a response. _Does he even care about what happened?_

At length, several moments passed of silence pervading the already taut mood between them, the sudden shock of it all ended for Gwinas, and his speech became quickened with dread. "Mara preserve us!" He exclaimed, his truthful eyes displaying innocence. "Honest! I had no idea that they were the ones…"

Kenrick's eyes lessened with hatred, but still remained wary of the fact that Gwinas was even trying to become involved with the demented group. Gwinas continued. "I found Mankar Cameron's views on Mehrunes Dagon fascinating – revolutionary even!" His pace then quickened as if he was trying to rectify a mistake. "But to murder the Emperor… Mara preserve us!" He exclaimed again.

After a moment of indecision on what he should do, somewhere deep inside Kenrick a light flickered, a kindling almost of some hidden compassion welled up within the pit of his being. Kenrick's eyes softened further. His mission, however, snapped back into focus as his eyes settled on the scarlet tome. He reached out his palm, gesturing for the book. "I'll be in need of that. It plays a crucial part in my mission."

"Of course, of course." Gwinas promptly handed the book over. "I don't want anyone to think I had anything to do with their insane plots."

Kenrick smiled and nodded. He felt he could trust Gwinas with the truth, and began, "I need to…"

But Gwinas promptly raised a hand, wanting nothing more to do with it. "Volume three is yours. What you do with it is your business. I'll have nothing further to do with those heathens."

"Well then, alright. Would you, by chance, know where to locate book four?"

A hint of remembrance aroused in the Bosmer's fixated eyes. "Oh yes! I almost forgot." Shuffling within the right cuff of his robe, Gwinas revealed a small piece of parchment and handed it over. "I had a meeting scheduled with the Sponser, as he called himself, of the Mythic Dawn. It'll tell you where to go and when."

Releasing the note with as much disgust as he could muster, Gwinas added in finality, "I'll have nothing to do with any more Daedric Cults, believe you me. My eyes have been opened, thanks to you. My life goes now into the service of the Nine. I want to rectify my wrongs. They are my way now." He then placed a hand on Kenrick's shoulder and walked away, ready to live his life in honesty, integrity, and virtue.

Kenrick watched as the elf walked away, completely turning away from everything vile he'd ever done in hope of setting right his past. And then, just for a sliver of a moment, Kenrick felt and ethereal presence flow through him. _Could it be?_


	24. Yet Again, Down There

Upon returning to Luther Broad's Baurus rose from his chair as Kenrick walked in the front door. He sighed and then went over to Baurus, holding out the three heavy tomes shoved within his weighty sack. Plopping the sack on the counter, Kenrick too seated himself.

Baurus looked at him in amazement and nodded in approval at the accomplishment, though noticed the fourth remained unfound. Pushing it aside until Kenrick revealed the reason, Baurus sat back down. "You know," he began with a grin of amusement, "you're not very easy to get a hold of in this city. What have you found?" The question, while slightly rhetorical, pressed Kenrick to reveal his information.

"Tar-Meena said you were right."

Baurus looked at him in confusion. "About what?"

"They are the Mythic Dawn."

"Good. But what about the tomes, what did she say about those?"

Kenrick raised a hand. "I'm getting to that. She also said that they come in four volumes, as I'm sure you already know." Baurus nodded. "But she believes, I think, they're a guide to finding the way into the guild. I believe she thinks there's some sort of hidden meaning within the text."

Baurus picked out the first tome and opened it as if to search for any meaning. After several moments he looked back up to Kenrick. "What meaning? It looks just like a mess of awful nonsense."

"I don't know. I'll return to her when I've found the fourth book. And I think I know where to get it." Kenrick then revealed the missive given to him by Gwinas, explaining his earlier encounter.

Baurus skimmed over the directions, a flash of justified fury flowing within his eyes as he realized what it meant. He pointed to the note and looked up. Kenrick noticed his vengeance rising. "I know that part of the sewers," stated Baurus, forcing the anger back for when he came face to face with the bastards who killed his leader.

Kenrick nodded. "Then lead on. I'm with you all the way."

Baurus flashed a malicious smile, for their task would bring him to do what he had been longing for ever since that last moment in Uriel's time. Now came the point for action to be made, retribution to take its course, and justice to unleash its holy wrath upon the wicked. "Follow me."

--

Kenrick followed after Baurus as they descended the ladder leading down into the bowels of where they both had thought one of the last places they'd be looking for their enemies. In some sense, it struck them as ironic. Where else _but_ where it had occurred? Though, they still felt uneasy as the dark engulfed them upon climbing down, down to meet the sponsor, down to find the last tome, but most of all down to ease a long pent up grief only alleviated, it seemed, by shedding the vile blood of these cultic desecrators.

Blood rushed to Kenrick's head, his heart rhythmically pulsating in his chest, the anxiety of it all tolling in his ears. The first noise he noticed sounded from further down, the soft patter of Baurus' leather-bound shoes shuffling across the stone floor. Then came the steady drip of water droplets meeting the river-like water troughs coursing in between two separated stone paths. But no other sound worried Kenrick more than the sound of empty silence filling the dead darkness. And so on into that darkness they went, Kenrick trailing Baurus.

Through several corridors they advanced, disregarding the petty rats and mud crabs who all somehow found their way in through unseen channels of water. Kenrick often wondered on that, trying to focus his mind on something other than the silent darkness surrounding him. For memories of old sprang into mind while in that darkness, frequently haunting his vision – confusing him between the reality of his mission and a dread adhering to his consciousness, filling him with fear of death and failure. But then, as if a reliever too sprang into thought, Kenrick remembered his friends he'd made since venturing on his quests – mostly of Fahlten. Courage then filled him, seeping into his very core, and gave him a new hope.

Before long they came to a closed door, a stair to its left leading up and through a short passage leading across the other side of the wall, and then settling into another set of passages. Baurus stood before the door and turned around. "This is it," he said, a hint of apprehension fluttering in his voice as it wafted into Kenrick's ears. "I'll go in and meet him. You take that stair right there. It should give you a clear view of our enemy."

"Got it." Kenrick turned towards the stair and started off.

"Kenrick?" He turned around to see Baurus staring at him with what looked to Kenrick to be eyes full of sorrow and remorse. Kenrick waited for him to say whatever it was he wanted to convey before they went about their separate tasks. Baurus then clasped him hand in hand, and at length he continued: "If I don't survive this, you at least must. The world depends on us right now, whether they know it or not. I want you to make sure that the Emperor survives, no matter what. Cyrodiil, and all of Tamriel for that matter, would fall apart should it lose the only remaining heir. Civil wars would break out amongst countries – brother against brothers, sons against fathers… you hear me? Emperor Uriel, with apparent wisdom from the gods, chose you to be an arbiter of sorts. This task falls to you. I believe it all the more seeing you here; else I would never have let you free after the Emperor's death."

Tears welled in Kenrick eyes. He abruptly wiped them away, forcing a smile. "Don't worry. I know this is my purpose." He swallowed, driving himself to say something past the lump in his throat. "I think the… gods have given me their divine luck."

Baurus smiled. "Then I'm lucky to have you here." He then released hold of Kenrick and passed into the next room. _Whatever gods there are, give us swiftness and protection._

Kenrick ascended the stair and out of the passage, finding himself on a bridge leading across to another passage on the far side, securely blocked by a gate. Far down the passage a pale light gleamed, though no life signs could be seen from whence the light came. Kenrick's gaze remained on the light for a moment, something in his mind told him it wasn't safe, but then focused his attention on Baurus down below when the light remained and no one showed.

Baurus sat in a high backed chair, awaiting the fated sponsor. Kenrick noticed his shoulders tense; an air of nervousness consumed him then quickly vanished when footsteps resounded from a nearby gated entrance. _Good, he's steeling himself_, thought Kenrick. An Altmer garbed in the familiar cultist robes strode in, his feet purposed with each step. He carried about him a great authority as one placed in a high position, though evil and peril consumed his quality.

"So," the mer's throaty voice bore a foreboding darkness, "you want to become one of the chosen of Mehrunes Dagon?" He began pacing back and forth, his shadowed face showing from beneath a red cowl, a grimace wrought across his face. "The Path of Dawn is difficult. But the rewards are great."

He paused for a moment, and turned his head to the right to look back down the passage. With a faint nod he proceeded and looked at Baurus with a slight snicker. Kenrick looked back down the hall, an apprehensive sense tingling down his spine. The light slowly began to grow at each passing moment. _It's drawing closer. Does he know?_ And at that two crimson clad figures ambled into view.

"I have the book you seek," the mer continued his speech. "With it and the Master's three other books, you will possess the key to enlightenment." The figures were almost in view enough to see Kenrick. They paused before the gate, still as can be, staring forward towards Kenrick, though appeared to be staring right through him. Frowns appeared on their faces. And Kenrick felt a faint energy flowing about. _Are they conjuring something?_

The mer's voice interrupted Kenrick thoughts, drawing his attention back to his friend. "But do you have the wit and strength to use the key that you have been given? If so, I will see you next at Mehrunes Dagon." He paused and looked for a moment at Baurus, slowly lifting his hands until they reached above his head, and looked up as if praising someone. His lips began to slowly move as if in communication with some sort of mental link with some unseen force. Then looking down he glared at Baurus. The mer's raised hands glowed softly and then pulsated and formed yellow misty magic that soon trailed down his body, forming the cultists' armor.

"Guards!" He shouted. The two figures before the gate bolted out in full speed toward their leader, completely passing Kenrick by, leaving him momentarily stupefied. But his confusion abruptly ended as he felt a spatter of blood streak across his face, and he looked down to one of the guards lying at the base of the stairs, and to Baurus yanking his sword from the chest of the being.

Kenrick rushed down to Baurus' aid, seeing how he quickly became overwhelmed by the assaulting pressure of his obviously skilled foes. Raising his blade just in time, Kenrick parried a blow madly swung at Baurus' side, confusing the guard and leader, giving Kenrick and Baurus enough time to strike and end the lives of their enemies.

Wiping his blade, Baurus looked around as if in search of Kenrick. "Where are you?"

"What do you mean? Where am I?"

"So it is you." Baurus sighed.

"Of course it's me. Who else would it be? What are you doing?"

"You're invisible." Kenrick, startled, raised a hand into view seeing… nothing. And when the shock of it ended he realized he must have absentmindedly equipped his ring. Feeling each of his fingers he found the ring and removed it, becoming clearly visible and receiving another sigh of relief from Baurus.

"It's a good thing you had that ring. The gods definitely have given you some good luck," Baurus noted with a smile upon seeing the item. Kenrick nodded. "Now, for the fourth book." Baurus grabbed the mer's coat and removed from it the fourth and final book.

Handing it to Kenrick, he said, "Take this to Tar-Meena. Let's hope she knows something about this." Kenrick nodded and began to proceed away.

"And Kenrick?" He turned around. "Thanks. I'll see you at Cloud Ruler Temple when your mission is complete." The two briefly exchanged smiles and went their separate ways: Baurus towards Cloud Ruler Temple, and Kenrick towards Tar-Meena and eventually to retrieve the Amulet of Kings.


	25. Beautiful Helper

Darkness engulfed, Kenrick pressed on through the tunnels, disregarding the throng of creatures inhabiting the depths of the Imperial City sewers. How they came to be, yet again, boggled Kenrick's mind as he tried to focus on something other than the darkness. But as the moments passed on darkness's hold grew limp on his conscious. His mind became clearer and less frightened of the unknown. Though, other worries began to creep their way into this mind. Particularly the worried thought of where an exit lay.

Passages traversed, tunnels navigated, a labyrinth of interconnecting systems sought within for some manner of escape only yielded more of the same as Kenrick pressed further on. Was it minutes or hours that passed since he first started? Kenrick knew not.

Finding himself in a large circular culvert – a narrow bridge extended across its length, murky waters filled in on either side – a faint memory pooled back into Kenrick's thought. A distant memory it was, but seemingly bordering the edge of reality and fiction. _My dream?_

A creaking groan drew Kenrick's attention to the end of the bridge where a shadowed figure stirred beyond a metal gate hanging loosely on fragile hinges. Though, as soon as he stepped onto the ramp leading down the shadow vanished, just as though it had never been. This thing had haunted him ever since he entered the sewers after the Emperor's death, but not harmfully so. Whatever it was it occasionally helped him out. But Kenrick grew curious of the being. _What does it want with me?_ The shadow reappeared and gestured him to go further on. And a faint something sounded from it, almost a… a musical humming resonating from the being, carrying the tune on unseen lips. Following, Kenrick soon found the melody familiar, but broken up by distance, and immediately began chasing after the being, trying to get close enough to catch the remaining snippets he couldn't make out. The tune quickly came into focus. A single name flashed into mind: _Karlirah?_ _Can it really be?_ He followed faster and faster, traversing many passages.

All ended, however, as he came to a small stair, and at its top led a ladder to someplace Kenrick could only make a wild guess at – hopefully somewhere safe. The shadow turned around as he looked up at it. It halted for a moment and began humming again. But quickly, as if confirming his thoughts, it inclined its head and vanished, leaving him alone in the dark once more. At least he had an escape.

Climbing up, and eventually out of the condemned sewers, Kenrick stood in a basement surrounded by boxes. He didn't care to whom the basement belonged, as long as he now stood on firmer ground. Seeking a way out, he came to a door, pushed it lightly, finding it unlocked and cracked open, and went through. No one was around, so he proceeded through cautiously, keeping alert of any tell-tale signs of people.

Quickly, he found the front door and scurried over to it. It was bolted shut by several machines. Carefully turning the locking mechanisms, the bolts clicked open, unleashing a loud metallic sound, and a noise rustled about upstairs. Frantically, he fumbled with the other bolts, unlocking them as fast as possible. Though, no sooner had he finished unlocking the rest of the bolts, he stumbled forward, the back of his head throbbing, and all went black.

--

Zoe Ashhart hovered over the boy, delicately wiping a dampened cloth across his forehead, occasionally pausing to glare at her housemate, Dynari Amnis, and then would refocus her attention back on the boy. She looked over him, pleased he was still alive after a blow like that. He didn't appear to be much older than seventeen, about her age, and was obviously made of studier stuff than he first appeared. His cheek bones sat slightly higher up on his face, his cleft chin rounded and bold, and small dimples on each side of his lips. She stroked away a lock of brown hair that casually fell done covering his face as he stirred. _Don't worry. I'll take care of you._

Getting up, she strode over to where Dynari sat, an annoyed glare resting on the Imperial female's brow, the only light in the room, a mere candle resting atop the table next to the bed, flickered endlessly across her face, casting her eyes in a menacing shadow. Dynari appeared threatening, though Zoe knew better. She frowned and sat next to her friend. Silence filled the emptiness between them as the minutes passed by. Their gazes fixed in opposite directions.

At length, Zoe sighed and turned her head. "Did you have to hit him that hard?" Dynari Amnis didn't stir, not even the slightest twitch could be seen, her narrow eyes locked on the boy with a cold gleam of defiance and distrust. "Dynari!" Zoe shouted. Pouting, her lips quivered.

Dynari lazily tossed a glance at Zoe, and then resettled them on the boy. With a huff, and then a smirk, she returned her eyes and settled them on her friend. She saw the same glare that Zoe frequently gave her when she did something that Zoe did quite approve of. "What, Zoe?" she barked. "What was I supposed to do? Do you really think I should have let a thief escape, not knowing if he had stolen something of value?"

"But he didn't steal anything!" Zoe stood up, firmly placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, how was I supposed to know he didn't steal anything? It is very likely he could have, Zoe. You of all people should know that." Dynari cast the little Breton a sarcastic smile then refolded her arms and sat straight, avoiding Zoe's glares.

"It still didn't make it right for you to whack so hard! You could have hurt him far worse than you did." Zoe stomped her foot and returned to sitting. They both started as they noticed the boy sitting up, awake and well aware of their conversations, on the edge of the bed, completely aware of the two girls arguing over... something. "Hello!" Zoe chimed, quickly forgetting all that had just transpired, but remembered as Dynari huffed. She released a low growl of warning, and went to the boy's aid. "What's your name?"

The boy winced then raised a hand to the back of his head, noting a sore patch of skin at the base of his skull. It hurt badly, a massive headache threatening to break out within his entire skull. Leaving it alone for now, he looked up at the inquirer and said, "My name's Kenrick. What happened? And where am I?"

Zoe thrust an accusing finger at Dynari. "She did it. Thank the gods she didn't paralyze you. She hit you right where you could have been immobilized for life… or worse." She then gestured with a finger, slowly sliding it across her neck.

"Lucky me," Kenrick smiled.

Dynari pulled her chair closer, an uncertain light in her eye, and stared hard at Kenrick. "Do I know you?"

_What is it with people asking me that?_ Kenrick shook his head. "I don't think so."

"No, I've heard of you. At least… you fit the description." Dynari shook her head. "I just read about you in the Black Horse Courier. Though, those things are often just a bunch of fantasized make-ups of foolish nonsense." Dynari shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose you're not the one. That person wouldn't have been sneaking around in _MY_ basement." She shook her head. "No, he's much too brave to be you."

"What are you talking about?" Zoe tilted her head to the side in confusion. Then she remembered the courier Dynari was talking about. "Oh! He does match the description!" She jumped with excitement. "Did you really go to Kvatch and wipe out those evil creatures?"

Kenrick faintly grinned, then lowered his eyes, letting them rest on the floor and focus on a rough knotted section in the wooden flooring. He slowly shook his head, not wanting to remember the gruesome sights. In fact, he never wanted to see anything like it again. "I am."

"Then you're a hero!" Zoe sat next to him, and clasped his hands. "You should rest a little while."

Kenrick looked at her hands; her soft smooth skin resting ever so gently on his own. For a moment he just sat there staring at their touching skin. It felt so good. He raised his eyes to meet hers: glimmering emeralds in the candlelight. Slender and shapely eyebrows rested above her beautiful eyes while soft, smooth, flawless skin rested beneath. Pouty pink lips lay beneath a thin nose and above a softly rounded chin. She was beautiful. A wave of emotions washed over Kenrick, feelings he'd never felt before. He almost wanted to… to rub one of his own rough, calloused hands across her cheek to better understand the meaning of soft.

Tearing himself out of the situation, he retrieved his hands and began to explain why he'd been down there, excluding the part about him being on a secret mission for the blades, killing the men apart of the secretive daedric cult, and entirely avoiding the presence of Baurus. Well, he'd basically come up with an entirely different story as to why, explaining he'd been down there hunting some stray goblins terrorizing a couple citizens. Though, throughout the entire story he'd barely left eye lock with Zoe.

"So you're a mercenary?" Dynari chimed in.

"No, well… no. I wouldn't call myself a mercenary. I wasn't paid."

"So you did it for kicks? For a friend? Why would you hunt down a group of goblins without any reward?"

"Well, you see…" Kenrick had to come up with something quick. Quickly deciding, he explained it was for a friend who would help him out with a problem of his own – a true enough statement. "I really need to get going. I have some things that need to get done. It was nice meeting both. Kenrick bowed a bit, showing respect to the two women, and after smiling at Zoe for a brief moment left in a hurry.

Dynari sat back, whistling a faint tune as she watched Zoe. Zoe turned around to find Dynari staring at her.

"What?"

"What do you mean… what? You like him." Dynari laughed.

"No," Zoe replied matter-of-factly. "I just thought he was interesting."

"Uh-huh. Whatever." Though, no matter what Zoe did, she couldn't hide the inescapable beaming smile.


End file.
